Knight of the Wizardmon
by Kyer
Summary: UNFINISHED Wizardmon finds himself in the company of a very different sort of vampire than Myotismon. But he's not alone in having traveled to an alternate Earth--- Demidevimon is hot on his tail. And now.. Enforcers?
1. Fall From The Sky

Forever Knight is owned by Sony/Tristar.  
Wizardmon and the the world of Digimon belong to Bandai, Fox, Toei, and Saban Enterprises. (And no, I'm not a fan of the series--though imho it beats Pokémon for a story premise.)  
  
==============================================  
  
Knight of the Wizardmon   
by Kyer en Ysh May 2000  
  
Vampire class, Viral caste digimon  
==============================================  
  
He was brought across in 1228  
Preyed on humans for their blood.  
Now, he wants to be mortal again..  
To repay society for his sins.  
To emerge from his world of darkness.  
From his endless, forever...knight.  
  
~~~o~~~  
  
Di Di Di ...  
Digimon Digimon  
Di Di Di...  
Digimon Digimon  
Di Di Di...  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Change.. into digital champions.. to save the Digital-- World.  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digivolve into Champions.  
Digivolve into Ultimate.  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon, Digital monsters, Digimon are the champions!  
Digimon!  
  
................  
  
  
Part One: Fall From The Sky  
  
It was late and Nicholas was flying aimlessly over the city landscape in a sullen mood, intent on putting as much distance between himself and his master as he could until the latter had cooled down. As usual, Lacroix had decided to take him to task for being such a---as the 2000-year old vampire had so delicately put it---"disgrace to my bloodline and a blight on natural evolution's pristine design". It was at times like this that the younger's (Nicholas being a mere 800 years) urge to 'move on' to a different locale took on greater appeal; however, he knew that any respite would be short-lived. As much as Lucien Lacroix, survivor of Mt. Vesuvius' eruption and Roman General extraordinaire might bemoan his son's peccadilloes, Nicholas had been decided upon as his favorite possession---and Lacroix was not one to let go of what he considered his and his alone. Experience told him that before many years would pass by, the dictatorial ancient would hunt him down and the psychological battle for possession of Nicholas' very being would resume.  
  
The dysfunctional pair's aggrievement with each other was an old fight---well over a century-old in fact. Everything had been fine between them until Nicholas had decided that being a vampire was...shall we say...no longer his cup of tea. To put it simply, he was tired of living off of blood, tired of killing, and tired of wondering each time a wooden stake got shoved into his breast if this was the night he was going to end up with a permanent address in Hell's Country due to his numerous sins.  
  
For Nicholas was something of a rare bird among the race of humanoid bloodsuckers: not only did he have a healthy conscience---he actively fretted over it like a horticulturist over a prized bonzai. Refused to drink anything but animal blood and kept socializing with others of his kind to a bare minimum lest he be tempted back into drinking from humans.  
  
Few people held so close a relationship with their sense of guilt as did former Chevalier de croisé Nicholas de Brabant.  
  
This tendency to stray from the status quo might not have been a problem to any but Lacroix and the more paranoid of the vampire elite, but for Nicholas' attempts to take his disenchantment with the night-tide lifestyle one step further: he would occasionally pull in the odd mortal to aid him in his quest to find a cure for his vampirism. To the vampire Community, this was a major problem since humans as a whole no longer believed in the existence of the nosferatu, and the vampires were rather keen on keeping it that way. They even graced their rules of secrecy with an important-sounding term: the Code. To keep those laws were powerful vampire 'policemen' given the authority to make sure that those rules were adhered to. Woe to the unfortunate vampire who fell under the eye of the Enforcers, for the penalty was often death to offenders.  
  
Nicholas had just reached the outskirts of Toronto when---out of nowhere---something collided with his back, sending him toppling downward from the unexpected shock. There was the fleeting impression of a body of dark purple, beige and red with blonde hair hurtling on past. Surely LaCroix had not caught up with him already?! Nicholas thought wildly as he tumbled in mid air.  
  
But it was not the familiar form of an enraged vampire that Nicholas saw as he brought his descent under control. Astonished eyes of deep blue tracked the balled figure as it continued its head-long rush straight for the ground.  
  
The one-time crusader knight's heart gave a single loud thump within his chest. Whoever had struck him, if his free fall wasn't stopped soon...  
  
Quickly, he shot downward after the figure. Now he could see that the small missle was indeed a person wrapped up in a fetal position, his cloak billowing outward like a comet trail. Straining himself to the utmost, De Brabant managed to catch the unconscious form just before it smashed into the unforgiving concrete and asphalt. Carefully, he set his catch down as he furtively checked the surrounding area for any mortal witnesses. Fortune smiled: there were none in the near vicinity to have spied his supernatural act.  
  
Kneeling, the vampire laid the other flat, shrugging off his jacket to place under the mass of dark blonde hair so similar to his own except for its straightness. Wished he'd been carrying his cellphone on him instead of leaving it in his car so he could call for medical help while remaining anonymous, but what was, was. If things got awkward, he could always hypnotize the ambulance personnel into forgetting he had even been there.  
  
The small body he'd held shivered slightly and moaned aloud as his hand checked for a pulse, both child-like arms still clutching a wide-brimmed and pointed hat to its head as if it was terrified of losing the odd headgear or of being struck. Crescent-shaped tags attached to zippers on the other's beige.. (flightsuit?)..nicked at the vampire's palms as he felt for any broken bones.  
  
Lord, so thin!--Nicholas thought as he felt the skeletal arms under the sleeves, mindful of yet more of the moon symbols that graced soft gloves. Had the kid nobody to feed him?  
  
Questions washed over the vampire.  
  
Where had this *child * fallen from? Child---for Nick judged him to be no more than a tad over 3 1/2 feet tall--maybe. And why was he dressed so strangely in what looked like a five-year old's attempt to play witch or magician? Indeed, the boy appeared as if he had readied himself for Halloween by donning a mystical cape and pointed hat, yet that holiday was months off yet.  
  
"This reminds me of a teaser for the twilight zone," Nick mumbled uneasily under his breath as he continued his inspection.  
  
A short rust-red vest went over the flightsuit, held close by two horizontal straps with silver buttons. Unlike everything else, it looked half-way normal. Not that the jumpsuit looked terribly abnormal considering today's fashions. Nick frowned. Then again, one of the zippers running across the knees looked a bit like grinning mouth if you took into account the slanted pair of patches sewn above it. Darn thing looked like it was leering at him. And then there was the cut-off addition to the cape that encircled the wearer and covered him from shoulders to just below the eyes so that the entire bottom half of the face was concealed just as the hat covered a lot from the eyes up. Not only did it put the vampire in mind of a bandit's bandana in the American Old West, but the purplish material's clasp was skull shaped---a miniature twin to the larger one gracing the hat's black band. Nick didn't much care for the hat's skull. He found the red dots within the black sockets rather unnerving as they seemed to follow the observer's every movement even though they were obviously sewn to the fabric.  
  
This kid must really love optical illusions and the whole mystic theme park of 'weird wear.'  
  
Taken as a whole, the entire ensemble was an uneasy cross between comical and sinister as if the wearer wasn't sure whether he'd decided to play villian or amiable hero.  
  
Almost as disconcerting as the odd clothes was the scent the kid was exuding. The vampire's sensitive nostrils twitched. It was like nothing he could put a name to---but was not unpleasant by any means. The closest he could categorize it was the scent of the wind before a thunderstorm. Humans did not smell like that---they smelled of the things of the earth and not of the sky. Vampire were similar. A cologne, perhaps?  
  
Without thinking about why, Nicholas reached to pull down the cowl. Before his fingers could touch it, however, the boy's head fell to one side---revealing an unexpected feature.  
  
"Mon Dieu!"  
  
Nick knew with one part of his mind that he had vamped out: the tips of descended fangs were pricking his lower lip, and his vision had switched to amber; however, the other part was too busy assimulating the child's appearance to care about fixing his own.  
  
Some of the dirty-blonde hair had moved out of the way, revealing more grayish-blue skin and elfish ears that looked way too natural to be fake. He ran one finger tentatively over the deer-like contour. Having spent time on and off throughout the centuries in theatrical endeavors, De Brabant knew a prosthetic when he felt one---and this wasn't made of foam rubber. Besides...it felt warm to his touch.  
  
Just who--or what!--De Brabant wondered, had he caught?  
  
He knew it was just his mind playing tricks, but Nicholas could almost swear the skull decoration afixed to the hat's band was grinning with enjoyment at his shocked expression.  
  
As he continued to stare dumbly at the improbable ear, a primitive staff fell from above and almost conked him on the head before landing unscathed upon the ground. Nicholas picked it up, feeling a slight tingle as he did so. He put it down to his imagination which was currently having a wild time as it was.  
  
The base was constructed from a plain, crooked, branch of wood. The top, adorned with some sort of flaming egg-symbol. It was of yellowish cloth except for a dark patch sewn on one side. All in all, the primitive-looking implement vaguely reminded De Brabant of something a North American shaman might have used in his rituals.  
  
Kind of.  
  
Moaning, the alien suddenly grasped the staff in a firm left grip, pulling it towards itself. Large, slanted eyes opened wide in horror, revealing unfocused irises of medium jade.  
  
"Nooo! Thunder Ba--!" it gasped out in a deep and slightly raspy voice.  
  
Nick started when a yellow spark of light appeared to grow in the kid's right glove.  
  
What the heck?!  
  
But then the spark vanished in the same moment as the voice was cut off by a fierce coughing spell. Must have been another optical illusion, the vampire decided, then noticed the green eyes were squinting up at him.  
  
"Where.. am I? Who?..." the being asked softly in an oddly accented English that Nicholas could not place at all---and he had been to a lot of places. Its deep tone held a wealth of weariness to it, as if the owner wasn't quite sure if he was awake or not. The alien tried to raise itself up, but fell back with a groan, eyes closing again.   
  
"Your hurt." Nick muttered around his still dropped fangs, his brain yet trying to process what he was seeing; almost wishing his father was here, for the ancient Roman was over twice the age of his Belgium son and had traveled about extensively before Nicholas had even been born to his mortal parents. Maybe Lacroix knew something of this being's origin or had encountered its kind before?  
  
A short, humorless laugh of incredulity came from beneath the cowl as the creature answered De Brabant's question in a bewildered tone, "Hurt? I'm not..deleted?" Then it went limp.  
  
Nicholas blinked in momentary incomprehension. Generally, people who narrowly escaped death used just that exact word or maybe 'killed'. Robots, gangsters and aliens in the media tended to say 'terminated' or 'exterminated'.  
  
But... 'deleted'?  
  
What kind of description was that for death? Sounded like something a computer geek would say. Nicholas flashed to that comic strip in the newspaper that was populated by birds. One of the characters was a computer 'wizard'. A smile came to the vampire's lips as he compared that paper and ink 'wizard' with the boy at his feet. Perhaps this too was a 'computer wizard'. An alien one who talked in digital terms.  
  
The unconscious and slightly high-pitched chuckle he emitted startled De Brabant back into the real world.  
  
"Get a grip, Nick," he told himself, using the inflections his doctor friend would have used if she'd been here.  
  
But Dr. Natalie Lambert, coroner to the city of Toronto, was attending a lecture on pathology tonight. He couldn't show this to her until tommorrow nor could he stay on the street much longer and chance someone's noticing them.  
  
And the thought of taking the alien to the Raven for his immortal sister, Janette, to watch over sent an ice chill down his spin. He wasn't sure just how his fellow bloodsuckers would react to an alien in their midst. Like as not they would simply kill it, and Nicholas didn't like that thought at all, growling protectively over the alien at nebulous enemies before he realized what he was doing. The growl became a goan as he rubbed his face in an effort to concentrate. What had just happened? Besides letting his Beast come to the fore without thought to any passerbys?  
  
In a public area was not a safe place to 'lose it', he chastised himself. Get out of here!  
  
Not knowing what else to do--even vampires didn't have alien's dropping on them everyday so he couldn't blame Lacroix for neglecting to teach him about this situation---Nicholas cradled the smaller figure to his chest and flew towards his loft in the city's warehous district.   
_______________________________ 


	2. Befriending A Monster

Part Two: Befriending A Monster  
  
The metal shutters rolled downward, shutting off the new day's light before it could enter the room and burn the occupant. Nicholas sighed in both relief and yearning as he turned away from the strengthening rays of the unreachable in order to consider that which now took up part of his couch as it lay unconscious on the blanket he had spread out for it.  
  
It.  
  
The alien that was half his size and a fraction of his weight.  
The midget monster in 'Stitch-It-Yourself Halloween garb.  
  
The impossible. Or, at least, the highly improbable.  
  
What was this creature that had literally dropped into this latest chapter of his life? Never had he seen the like save in the odd fantasy videos that Dr. Lambert, his friend and confidant---one of only a handful of mortals who knew his true species---, sometimes brought over to watch with him.  
  
Not knowing anything about alien customs or possible taboos, Nicholas had reluctantly opted not to remove any of the clothing save the hat---which kept tumbling off anyway. That article he'd laid within easy reach on the table along with the primitive staff. If his otherworldly guest preferred to be covered from nose to toe, who was he to say otherwise? Last thing he needed was to be zapped by an irate alien with a space gun. Or a crooked staff.  
  
Still, he couldn't resist staring. Even an alien should understand the pull of simple curiosity.  
  
Could this really be an alien from outer space? It didn't look like anything from Star Trek. More a denizen of Tolkien's Middle Earth." Nicholas smiled as he thought of his days spent listening to the English professor propound on his imaginary world, imbuing it with details that at times made it seem more real than London itself. His old friend, Ronald, would likely have been amused by the notion of a warlock parachutist-sans-his-parachute. This being did sort of look like a hobbit---speculative eyes traveled to where leather brown boots rested against the black leather of his sofa---except the soft leather boots were too small to be hiding big, hairy feet.  
  
Oh well, it hadn't been much of a theory anyway.  
  
The vampire's thought train was derailed by a snufflling noise coming from the head of the couch. De Brabant realized with more than a touch of apprehension that 'the hobbit' was awake and struggling into a more upright position as it stared curiously around at the loft's eclectic decor.  
  
"Why am I not in a digiegg?" the odd voice asked in a baffled tone. A moment of silence; then an equally uncertain, "This is not Primary Village. Is this even.. No, surely not?"  
  
Soon the hawk-like gaze settled on him, but whether the being was frowning or smiling, Nicholas couldn't tell because of the cowl still covering everything of the alien's face below those fierce looking eyes.   
  
"This does not feel like Digital World. More like the Real World, yet..not the same," the being muttered as if to itself, wearily sweeping his long bangs that hung in front of its eyes. They merely fell back into place again. It seemed not to notice and kept staring at the vampire as if waiting for something. Nicholas felt like he was being visually dissected and shifted his weight a fraction to the side. The jade-hued eyes moved with him. Finally it spoke again, the words deliberate and slow, as if afraid speaking faster would get it attacked.  
  
It was as wary of him as he was of it.  
  
"You appear human, but humans don't smell or sound as you do nor have fangs. At least..." the voice faltered in mid-sentence "the Destined and their kindred did not." It shook its head as if trying to clear away mist from its vision, hand taking up the staff as the alien used it to get unsteadily to its feet, raising the implement in a threatening manner when Nicholas instinctively shifted forward to assist it. "Are you another Data digimon?" it asked, tone changing from utterly mystified to one of warning. "I've never seen anyone digivolved as you. Are you a Vaccine sent to help or a Virus of Myotismon's assigned to guard me? Is he holding me captive against my friend?" The green eyes narrowed to slits as De Brabant did not answer right away. "Please answer me, mon or whatever you are. I would rather be reduced to digital dust many times over than be used against Gatomon or for any such foul purposes."  
  
The vampire cleared his throat as the little creature continued to stare at him with quiet dignity even as its legs trembled underneath it.  
  
"Virus, Data or Vaccine? I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. I've never heard of 'Digital Word' or 'Myotismon, or anything of the strange terms you've mentioned," Nicholas said in an effort to placate the alien. "You're in my home---in Toronto, Canada., Earth A few hours ago you literally fell on top of me a short distance from here," he explained. "As for strange appearances," the vampire gave a weak grin, "it's safe to say that in all my years, I've never encountered anything remotely like you save in books or celluloid."  
  
The creature blinked at him as if Nick had spoken some sort of gibberish. Then it sank back down on the couch dully staring at its feet.  
  
"Oh.." it said in a near whisper, closing its eyes and swallowing hard, thinking.  
  
Then it had not all been just a bad dream? He was still on Earth. But had he actually been deleted? Impossible---he'd be either an unthinking mass of Data bits waiting for the Matrix to recycle him, or a newborn in its digi egg preparing to start functioning anew. Obviously, he had not been recycled by the System. But did that mean that Myotismon's blast hadn't succeeded in deleting him after all---or that his Data was stuck on Earth to be forever barred from going home because the Matrix had been unable to gather his Data from such an alien place? Was this even the same Real World of the Digi-Destined that he and Gatomon had been transported to? Somehow he felt that it was not. There was just a sense of 'offness' about his surroundings, even greater than what he had felt when he'd first entered Kari's world. Oh,no, no, no---so many possibilities! The portal between the Two Worlds had shown him that the schematics of existence were far more complicated than he had ever imagined. Could this indeed be not just another world... but another dimension altogether? One of many connected together at odd points? Maybe transitional connections that haphazardly touched, bouncing off each other like Babies learning to move?  
  
Oh, Matrix!  
  
Lost. He was lost. More lost than he or any other digimon had ever dreamed of in their wildest nightmares! Unbidden tears began to blur his vision as he realized the implications.  
  
He might never see his home again.  
  
"Cautiously, Nick sat down opposite the shivering alien and handed over a black-silk handkerchief. The stranger eyed it dubiously, but seemed to decide it was harmless.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"My real name's Nicholas de Brabant, but most everyone in the city knows me as Nick Knight. Care to talk about it?" the vampire asked. He hated to see anyone in distress.  
  
The alien used the ebony bit of cloth to dab self-consciously at its eyes. "You are very kind, Nick. I'm sorry that I did not see that right away, but this is all very unexpected. Very strange."  
  
"Tell me about it," his host grinned.  
  
The other cocked its head as if considering it.  
  
"Alright. I'm Wizardmon," the alien creature bowed his head. A cool hand took his gloved one and gently shook it.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Wizardmon. I take it you''re not from around here?" Nicholas joked, trying to put his unusual guest at ease. The alien's eyes looked so sad.  
  
"No." Wizardmon sighed as he recalled the more recent events experienced by his latest evolutionary form. "I'm not."  
  
It seemed eons ago when he had first broke out of his egg and looked afresh upon a familiar world. Due to his nature, it had taken him a long time to reach his first digivolve into that of a Rookie. Slightly longer to become the Champion he was now. He had never been one for conflict either real or play, sheer apathy making him literally choose option 'flight' over 'fight' when it was open--so his strength had amassed at a slower level. But that was expected of the Data-castes. Fierce fighting was done by the Vaccines and Virals who strove for control of Digital World. Datas simply did what was needed, typically only fighting when dragged into it by the pressings of the other two. Wizardmon's development had been further complicated by his utter confusion about what his function even was. The problem being that there was simply no one he'd been able to find and ask. The Data caste might be as common as Virals and Vaccines... unfortunately, Wizard-class Data digimon were incredibly rare. In fact, wizardmons were the only Wizard-class Datas the System created, and as far as Wizardmon knew, he was the only one to evolve into that form for many, many years.  
  
"Until not long ago," the digimon resumed, "I was working for the Virus, Lord Myotismon." He made a disdainful sound as he said the accursed name of the Enemy. "Well, not exactly working for him, understand,"Wizardmon added, voice filled rancor, "You see, I was trying to help my friend, Gatomon, because she saved my life and has a great destiny to fulfill. I only pretended to be loyal to Myotismon so I could keep an eye on her." The green eyes glinted with anger as he looked up at the ceiling. Myotismon. A vampire-class Virus of extradinary power that seemed more Mega than Ultimate in its magnitutude. Had his enemy been close to digivolving into that level? "Myotismon took away most of her past memories after we met---a spell of forgetfulness most likely---so that she treated me as harshly as the others under her command. That is the way Virals train others," Wizardmon spat out bitterly, "by speeding their natural digivolving process along with torture so that instinct will force the body into a stronger level in an attempt to survive. Gatomon, fortunately, was strong and attained her own Champion level this way. However, I knew that was not the real Gatomon for I'd known the span of her true heart before that monster hid it in his darkness." A mournful sigh escaped from the digimon. "I suppose.. in a way she thought she was doing me a favor. At times---small instances, gone quickly---I felt she hoped that I would attain another level for her sake,to help her and not just so that Myotismon's army could have a wizard-class Ultimate in their ranks. Poor Gatomon. Either way it would never have worked for in my case the foundation of the idea was faulty. Not all of Myotismon's twisted influence could induce me to hate or fear her. I saved those emotions for the master, himself."  
  
Green eyes released their hostility, taking on a faraway air as he thought about the white, cat digimon with the black-tipped ears and soulful eyes of sky blue. "Gatomon was lonely like I was and wanted to find the one she had been searching all her life for but did not know who that was." The wizard noticed that his rapt audience of one wore a small smile on his face and shook his head, his own, more doleful smile at the thought safely hidden from view. "No, Nick, it was not what you are thinking. It wasn't me.. As it turned out, she was the digimon for the eighth Digi-Destined child that Myotismon had sent us into the Real World to locate so he could destroy her. You see, there is a prophesy that only the Eight Chosen Pairs working together could stop Myotismon's evil. And Gatomon was the Eighth Child's digimon partner." He shrugged. "I knew she was special. I just hadn't realized how much. Apparently, neither had Myotismon though he had taken her despite her being a Vaccine. Maybe he did it for the challenge... warp a Vaccine into believing they were Viral."  
  
He cocked his head as he eyed the odd human. "But I am boring you?"  
  
Nicholas was quick to answer in the negative. "No. No--not at all. Please go on, this is fascinating," he gestured for his guest to continue.  
  
"As you wish." Wizardmon began again. "After exiting the portal, we were each ordered to seperate either singularly or in pairs for the search. Not wanting someone constantly looking over my shoulder, I didn't wait for anyone to latch onto me, but flew straight away to find these 'children' to study. They are an interesting level of human, children. Akin to digimon in many ways. I masqueraded as a human magician as I searched for the child"---low chuckle---"a masquerade within a masquerade, for I was not doing it for Myotismon---but for Gatomon. Even though we didn't know she was DigiDestined at first, I sensed she was special and figured that the sooner the Eighth Child was found and Myotismon defeated, the sooner Gatomon would be set free. That she was a DigiDestined herself I blame myself for not seeing sooner. Unfortunately, Myotismon realized her true identity as well, not long after I did and took both captive as the other Destined strove to delete him. He was too powerful, though, and aimed his most powerful energy attack directly at my friend and her Chosen before Kari could get ahold of her digidevice and release the power to turn Gatomon into an Ultimate as prophesy stated must happen for the Vaccines and Destined to win."  
  
Grisly Wing.  
  
The wizard shuddered, his voice unconsciously becoming agitated as he recalled what was nearly his last memory before dying.  
  
"The energy force Myotismon releases takes the form of a dark cloud of bats that batter and tear the victim to deletion! I had no choice---my existence was worthless without Gatomon---whereas Gatomon and Kari were destined to save everyone! So, I threw myself into its path and re-directed the energy at myself to keep it from reaching them. It took almost everything I had to make those bats zero in only on me. For a moment I was terrified they wouldn't listen to my command! But they did--thank the System!---and the dark force left the others alone. Previous battles with the monster had depleted my energy reserves too much---there wasn't anything left to form a shield.when it struck. The blow was... It felt like every particle of my Data had been fried. I am glad Gatomon and Kari were spared it." Wizardmon sighed again, turning back to look at his host as he wrung his hands. "Now I can but wonder... Did my actions help them to win the battle? I hope it was enough or Digital World is doomed to suffer under the hand of Myotismon."  
  
And did Gatomon manage to survive?   
  
The tall human looked slightly confused.  
  
"I---I'm afraid to have to confess your tale---though rivetting---has left me too far back in the dust to give a valid opinion," Nick admitted self deprecatingly. "Just what is a digimon?"  
  
Blushing several shades darker, Wizardmon hastened to apologize. Of course the Real Worlder didn't know about any of this! How stupid and inconsiderate of him to have kept blathering on about himself!  
  
"It's short for 'digital monster'," he explained, laying a hand across his red vest. "I'm a Data digimon, wizard class, who has attained Champion level in power." Wizardmon went on to describe various fabulous creatures that lived where he came from. " In my world---Digital World, everything is digitized matter instead of..I think your term is 'analog'? And when someone dies, they revert back to basic data to be retrieved by the System. The Matrix holds the data until it is needed, after which it is placed into a digiegg and deposited at Primary Village. Electmon cares for them as they hatch out as either Vaccine, Virus, or Data babies. Once they are strong enough, they become Rookies, ready to start learning and practicing their designated function. And so the cycle of life continues on." He groaned heavily, shaking his head. "Only for some reason, I ended up here instead of there."  
  
Defect! The old accusation rang within his memory, a stinging possibility as to why he was no longer part of the System: dying on Real World had been a convenient way for Digital World to get rid of him.  
  
Defect! Defect! Irreparabley damaged, the memories taunted.  
  
Rejected by the System.  
________________________ 


	3. Some Things Are Hard To Swallow

Part Three: Some Things Are Hard To Swallow  
  
Trying to hide his distress from another being whom he thought could not possibly understand the reason for it, Wizardmon stoicly wiped at another tear with the piece of silk; yet fresh ones kept rolling down the his skin, disappearing behind the cowl despite his efforts to control them. He was having a hard time keeping the assorted memories at bay, knowing that this was neither the time nor the place to let them take hold!  
  
"Gatomon is a land-animal class digimon of the form you would call a 'cat'." He took a deep breath. "I wish I knew if she was okay," the digimon confessed to Nicholas. "Without being regenerated by the Matrix, I can't regain a life there and find out what happened." More tears flowed. " Gatomon was my best friend and it was an honor to help her, but now I am alone again. Alone and lost." His stomach growled, punctuating the last word.  
  
"And starved?" Nicholas smiled. He couldn't pretend to understand everything in his guest's fantastic story, but he recognized the sound of hunger well enough. And it didn't take an empath to sense the great sadness either. Well, he couldn't do much about the latter---at least, not yet---but relieving the former might be do-able. "Would you like something to eat or drink?"  
  
"Please. Thank you,"the digimon nodded. "I have not eaten since before the fight and am feeling very empty."  
  
Empty. So much meaning held within such a simple word. Without Gatomon, he felt useless and empty.  
  
Nicholas got up and went into his kitchen, thinking how life seemed determined to throw him all the curve balls. He was still half inclined to believe this was all a dream, yet dream or not he couldn't very well ignore his guest's needs.  
  
Besides, he felt drawn toward the poor little guy. Or digital monster. Digimon. Weird to think that an entire realm of sentients casually thought of themselves as monsters as if being considered one was the most normal thing in the world. But then, if everyone was a monster, then that would be normal, wouldn't it?  
  
De Brabant wondered what it would be like to live in a place where physical differences were accepted without qualm. What would that be like---to not have to hide your deformities from others. He had always disliked the lies he'd had to fabricate as a vampire living amongst mortals.  
  
Then again, Wizardmon had not skirted over the fact that they seemed to suffer from the same plagues of selfish apathy and greed that tainted his own Earth. Both sides held their faults. Neither, it seemed, was a paradise.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't usually have much, my own diet is kind of restrictive..," the vampire called out as he vainly rooted around in his cabinets for edibles, the sound of doors opening and closing softly echoing around the loft. "hopefully one of my co-workers left something of theirs.."  
  
Eureka!  
  
"Do you like popcorn?" the vampire asked, having located a half-full bowl of Natalie's favorite movie-watching snack from two days ago. He figured it was still good to eat---unlike the fossilized pizza slice his partner in Metro Homide had so kindly stashed in the back of his pantry. Ugh. Mortal food was not his forté, his own body craving but one thing only. Unfortunately, he couldn't very well fend of his fellow detectives attempts to get him to eat by outright declaring himself to be a vampire. With Natalie's help (acting as his personal physician), everyone believed he had a rare skin condition that prevented his being out in daylight, gave him more allergies than you could shake an antihistamine at, and which screwed his digestive tract all to h**. Schanke, of course, was determined that all Nick needed was some good Polish/Italian food to give him strength and a long life. Just living off of Nat's protein shakes and 'red wine' would not cut it.  
  
If only his mortal work partner knew! Nicholas grinned. Vampires were not true immortals since they could die, but they were much stronger than mortals.  
  
"I don't know. I've never heard of 'pop corn' before," his guest admitted as he eyed the bowl's contents, "but it smells good." The digital wizard hesitantly took a handful of the white stuff and dropped it down the cowl. Nick heard soft munching sounds followed by a light cough.  
  
Then another. And another.  
  
"It is good. Just a bit...dry," Wizardmon sheepishly offered his culinary critique after a fourth, hoarser, cough escaped from his mouth. And, unfortunately--he tactfully did not add---the fluffy stuff did not do nearly enough to assuage his hunger. Still, the digimon was grateful for it and doggedly ate even the tiniest bits, doing his best to ignore how they tended to stick in his throat.  
  
Digimon needed convertible matter to keep up their current power level. In fact, he was somewhat amazed he hadn't reverted back into an earlier evolvement stage already, based on the way he felt. In the past, Wizardmon had seen digidevolvment happen to those digimon who overextended their resources. Although, now that he thought of it, that hadn't ever happened to him---not even when Myotismon had nearly killed him the first time.  
  
Hmmph. Figures he'd be faulty in even a universal digimon detriment! Apparently, he couldn't do anything correctly--not even digidevolve.  
  
"I think I'd better get you something to go with that," Nicholas said as Wizardmon continued to cough.  
  
After a moment, his host came back with a large goblet of water which he gave to the other.  
  
"Here."  
  
The digimon had to use both hands to hold it and Nicholas apologized for not having anything smaller for his guest to use. In the past, he had extended his loft's hospitality to someone of such small stature only once before---a young girl some thugs were after---and that had been for only a single day. Natalie was trying to help him with his social skills, but he was as yet a bit unprepared for satisfying even the basic expectations of adult visitors. For instance, Nat had chastised him for keeping his coffee under the sink. Well, how was he to know? His sole repast--breakfast, lunch, dinner and mid-noon snack---was blood. (Or it was when the coroner wasn't foisting on him those vile concoctions of hers on the theory that it was his sanguinary diet that was keeping him from crossing back into a human.) You kept blood cool or frozen until needed, microwaving the frozen bags if you were out of the bottled variety and were in a hurry to feed. Food storage cabinets and stoves had always been purely for aesthetics as far as he was concerned. Besides, coffee smelled as horrendous as Schanke's souvlaki. Though.. at least Natalie didn't add garlic into her drink or leave grainy crumbs on in his cadillac's upholstery!  
  
Wizardmon stared into the liquid for a long moment, holding it just below his eyes as if seeing visions within the clear surface.  
  
"You do drink water?" De Brabant asked, worrying that maybe Earth and this Digital World would be too different in nutritive substance to keep the little digimon man alive.  
  
"Yes," Wizardmon assured him. "Your analog matter is different from mine, but not overly so. I believe I can convert it sufficiently. It is only..."  
  
The tearful, jade-stone eyes lifted to meet the vampire's concerned face as he explained between small clearings of his irritated throat:  
  
"When I first met Gatomon, I had fallen.. from the desert sky and landed in the middle of a town. The heat proved.. too much for me and I.. was left weak and.. unable to crawl let alone go over to the well and draw.. water for myself. The other digimon.. passing by ignored.. my plight, intent on their own lives and needs. I did not blame them for.. acting so, for I had come to that.. conclusion myself long before: that nothing was given.. freely and all motives were selfish. I had nothing to offer.. of value to.. them, so why should they stop to help? It was Gatomon.. who saved my life and my spirit. She helped me and.. demanded nothing in return.. She..." he paused as another cough escaped him. "She gave me.. a bowl of water."  
  
He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I am not usually this emotional," he apologized, feeling embarrassed at his total lack of control since realizing he was not part of the System anymore. An accidental outcast.  
  
Or maybe not so accidental.  
  
Defect! The voices from his past managed to chant in chorus before he shoved them back into the recesses of his mind, concentrating on the water he held.  
  
He didn't want to do this. What if Nicholas saw and reacted as the rest?  
  
Hesitating for only a moment, Wizardmon shyly turned to face away from this second rescuer as he reached to tug down his cowl low enough to take the glass to his..  
  
"Well, it sounds like you've been through a--"  
  
De Brabant gave an involuntary gasp as he caught a glimpse of a pale, round face below the slanted eyes, inadvertently revealed in the smooth surface of a table-top mirror. The thing was joke gift from Natalie meant to poke fun at a human myth which falsely stated that a vampire's image would not appear on a reflective suface. They had shared a good laugh at that, but Nick was not laughing now.  
  
Quick as lightning, he moved to kneel before the digimon, concern and horror forming his lips into a tight line. It was weird enough that the creature barely had what could be called a nose, but that was not what had so caught the knight's attention!  
  
"Who did that to you?!" De Brabant demanded, angry that someone could have inflicted such a thing on another... on his...   
  
He let the thought go, not entirely sure how to finish it. All he knew was that he felt very protective of this strange digital monster---and would willingly inflict serious damage on whomever would harm him.  
  
Wincing a little as the Nick's cobalt eyes bore into him, Wizardmon continued to drink from the wide glass---by carefully flexing the seven vertical threads that ran the length of his mouth. Though their tensile strength was considerable---and sharp enough to slice through even hard food---they could only stretched so far without ripping free from his flesh altogether. Prudence, therefore, dictated that any flexing be done carefully. Hence the Data was mindful to drink and eat everything slowly.  
  
The wizard had been afraid his host would react this way to his appearance---almost everyone did. That was why he kept his features hidden from view via the cowl, hat, and baggy jumpsuit: it wasn't pleasant being looked upon as an object of disgust. Only Gatomon had not shied away from or commented on the ugly stitches that linked jaw with palate. Her simple acceptance was part of what had so earned his loyalty to the cat-like Vaccine.  
  
Finished, he placed the goblet down on the coffee table, letting the fabric spring upward to hide his mouth again. His host would have reached to uncover it once more, but a gloved hand served to block the move. Only after the odd human backed off did he meet Nicholas' eyes.  
  
"I was digivolved this way," Wizardmon said by way of explanation. He bowed his head. "Please do not be upset about it and send me away. I promise you that I will keep covered while in your presence."  
  
Misunderstanding the digital term for spontaneous evolution, Nicholas' face was thunderous with anger thinking that some villian had done the deed out of sadistic malice. "I have some medical knowledge. If you want, I can take them out--"  
  
"No!" the digimon drew back, eyes wide, his body shivering a little as he threw up both arms to guard his lower face.  
  
His guest's obvious fright brought De Brabant up short. "Surely you can't mean that you want to keep them in?" Nick blinked with astonishment at the very idea. His tone softened as the digimon continued to tremble before him. "Let me help. It's obvious you find them embarrassing and it can't be easy to eat with them there."  
  
An emphatic headshake was his only answer.  
  
Nicholas persisted anyway. "Why else do you keep your mouth hidden then? Don't be so proud that you'd refuse help when its offered."  
  
Giving a long sigh, Wizardmon slowly lowered his arms. "It's not pride, Nick. I keep them covered up for the reason that so many others find looking at them disturbing." The green eyes twinkled with hangsman's mirth. "It is very hard to keep up a conversation when hardly anyone will look you in the face let alone the eyes. Mon are not usually critical of other's looks, but when they are...well...it's strong. Except for Gatomon, I pretty much kept to myself after leaving my Rookie stage."  
  
So much for his hasty assumption that the residents of Wizardmon's home held no prejudices, Nicholas thought to himself. It seemed that discrimination existed everywhere. Even on a digital world.   
  
"Still.. I can call in my mortal friend, Nicholas offered his one, last possibility to his guest. "She's not a cosmetic surgeon...exactly..., but she's experienced in fixing deformities." He decided to leave out that the deformities were the ones created by her own autopsies while working as Toronto's top medical coroner. "And I can personally vouch for her professional demeanor and discretion."   
  
Boy, could he ever! You had to have a knack for discretion if you could refraim from telling the world that a pipe bomb-blasted corpse had regenerated good as new on your examining table, gotten up by itself and proceeded to dine upon the units of blood being kept in your refrigerated storage!  
  
Wizardmon's unusual mouth formed into a smile behind its cloth barrier. He was getting to like this being a lot. Nicholas' thoughts were a bit chaotic, but nobility of spirit ran clearly. And his persistance on his guest's behalf was an admirable quality---though unwanted in this case. Wizardmon also sensed a lot of guilt within his host---a need to redeem himself through acts of self sacrifice. Well.., the digimon thought wryly, in that they held something in common, didn't they?  
  
"Your concern honors me, Nick, but I am not ill nor disfigured... merely exhausted." At least he hoped that was the truth. He really wasn't sure about the validity of his own statement.  
  
And why I haven't digidevolved back to Rookie yet is another mystery to decipher, the Data wizard silently mused. He certainly felt as weak as a beginner!  
  
Aloud, he continued in a more subdued manner, "However, you are not the only one who has thought of relieving me of my...handicap. I know they are ugly. As I said, many find them disturbing to see and not all digimon believe in practicing tact." The Data hesitated, shivering again at the memory. "Even the Virals found them repugnant. Myotismon certainly thought so, and had two of his minions remove them soon after I was impressed into his service."  
  
"And?" Nicholas frowned. If they had already been removed, then why..?  
  
Inwardly, Wizardmon groaned and wished the human would let this topic drop. Talking about it reawakened things already far closer to the surface than he liked. But he owed De Brabant something for his trouble. An explanation was not too much for the human to ask for after having taken him in and given him his food.  
  
"They grew back," he said quietly, unwillingly reliving what happened next. That part of his life was forever etched into his memory, often leeching unbidden into his dreams. "Myotismon was furious---even tore them out himself after they reappeared the third time." The digimon squirmed in memory. "He thought I was using my magic to restore them and had me punished for my open 'rebellion'. But I wasn't trying to rebel then. I couldn't risk doing anything that would get me deleted or expelled before I could help Gatomon remember who she was." He brought up a hand to gently rub at the threads through the tight weave of the cowl. "My stitches...they are not unlike my hair---they just grow back when damaged or removed. Finally, Myotismon gave up and left me alone to heal. It..." He closed his eyes. "..the experience was very painful. I don't like to think about that time."  
  
"I'm sorry," Nick apologized. "I should not have said anything."  
  
Wizardmon smiled again. "How can we learn and grow without questions? You could not have known until I told you." He heaved himself back onto the couch and laid his head down. "Now... please do not think me rude after your hospitality, Nick, but I really must sleep."  
  
And with that, he was out like a light.  
  
Quietly, Nick reached over to cover the comatose figure with the blanket. Dawn was already lighting the sky outside and he was getting tired himself. With a last look at the sleeping digimon, the vampire went upstairs to get some rest, his mind a jumble of thoughts most of which centered on how he'd have liked to have had it out with this 'Myotismon' creep.  
_________________________________ 


	4. A Parent

This one's a little short--it introduces an FK main character. I'll try to get the next one up tommorrow.  
  
  
Part Four: A Parent's Untimely Visit  
  
  
The sun hadn't even finished setting when a tall, ominous figure floated down into Nick's loft via the skylight. He was impeccably dressed in tailored, black attire; his hair a pale blond, cropped close to his skull in crew-cut style, while his ice-blue eyes held an angry glint as he surveyed the spartan room. The man touched down on first-level of the apartment, expensive leather boots barely making a sound as he walked over to De Brabant's baby grand piano and casually caressed its lacquered surface.   
  
  
This was Lucien Lacroix, Nicholas' 2000-year old vampire progenitor---and he was not pleased. Last night, he and Nicholas had had a bit of a roe---nothing new, they seemed to argue a lot these past centuries---only some irritating mortals had happened upon the scene, forcing both of the compatants to retreat into seperate, shadowy corners until they could bring their inner Beasts under control. There had been too many of the humans for the ancient to deal with quietly or hypnotise into leaving again, so he had been obliged to 'blend' in while seeking out his son in order to drag him, willing or no,to a more private venue for their 'discussion'. Nicholas, however, must have chosen not to stick around for the rest of the fight; but fled into the air, leaving his sire to find other amusement for the remainder of the evening. Lacroix had opted not to follow as he had other business to attend to during before dawn broke: the production of his radio show at CERK, where he ruled the electronic airwaves during the graveyard shift as 'The NightCrawler'. The clandestine vampire knew he was undoubtedly the most caustic and beguiling radio personality Toronto had ever hosted---and that fact pleased him no end.  
  
  
However, now was a new night and he bloody well meant to continue the 'discussion' between himself and his prodigeny that had been so rudely interrupted! Too, he'd been getting some rather intense feelings of outrage and protectiveness from down their parent/child bond---(a mental link created between them ever since he had nearly drained then encouraged Nicholas back from the brink of True Death.) Since a phone call to the desk sargeant had confirmed that his son had not returned to his ridiculous mortal's 'work' as a homicide detective, this bore looking into. Anything that aroused such strong emotions from his wayward child needed looking into.  
  
  
Nicholas was such a handful at times---stubborn as a mule and twice as pigheaded. This 'cure' business had only ascerbated his child's misplaced desire for independence. Whether the boy admitted it or not, his tendency to leap first often landed him into bad trouble be it with mortals or other vampires. If he, as the duty-bound father, didn't take his patriarchial responsibilities so seriously...!  
  
  
Sensing through the blood bond that his irresponsible offspring was still sleeping in his upstairs bedroom, Lacroix had started to levitate himself towards the second level when he heard a small heartbeat thumping quietly from the black-leather couch. Curious, he went over to see what type of mongrel his son had taken in now---the rythmatic sound being different from that of the female coroner Nicholas had so unwisely taken into his confidence and who now hung around the boy like some teenaged idol worshipper.  
  
  
Indeed, he'd been correct. The figure under blanket was not that of Dr. Lambert's, but of a small child's. For some reason the mortal tyke was done up in a manner of costume that hearkened to those worn by youngsters who cavorted about in during late October demanding candy. The ancient vampire master snorted to express his contempt for such folly on the part of the adults: children should never be allowed to dictate terms on their superiors. Letting the little buggers running rampant, demanding sweets from house to house, making silly threats on the citizens within. This was hardly responsible behavior to be instilling in their offspring!   
  
  
Lacroix snickered cruelly as he moved closer to eye the slumbering form, now softly whimpering in its sleep.  
  
  
Another of those homeless waifs his soft-hearted protégé had taken in, most likely. Nicholas and his sense of charity. His son should know better by now than to pick up mortals and invite them whithin his lair. Children, especially, were trouble---overly active and more likely to snoop around where they were not wanted. Perhaps he should add this little mortal to the lesson he'd planned to give his son? Yes... the wisdom of keeping yourself seperate from mortals lest both sides get.. hurt. Nicholas was having trouble getting that one to stick into his head.  
  
  
Well...granted, his daughter, Janette, occasionally took in a mortal stray along with her orphaned fledglings, but the Parisian was more responsible when she did it, hypnotising them so that they wouldn't do anything stupid while under her care. Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed at times to almost hope that he would be found out. How many had died already because his child refused to accept that his conversion was permanent?  
  
  
Ah..yes. The recompense there was that at least he had had the pleasure of dining on the mortals in question or influencing Nicholas to do so himself.  
  
  
Dinner and entertainment rolled into one.  
  
  
In fact... He should really take at least a sip from this newest boarder. Blood not only was a vampire's food, it also contained the owner's memories and emotions. Discovering why Nicholas had allowed this child into his sanctum would help to determine what action should be taken, how best to twist the knife of guilt his son habitually stuck into his own gut.  
  
  
Poor Nicholas. He did tend to lay himself open to attack. Perhaps when he'd suffered enough pain he'd wrench out the knife completely and go back to revelling in his true nature instead of trying to fight it and his master.  
  
  
Lacroix frowned deeply as he wondered what had gone wrong; what steps should have been taken long ago to help rid his son of this damnable conscience that had latched onto him as a hungry tick imbeds itself in a cub, sapping away its strength.  
  
  
The Roman grinned at his own imagery. Perhaps that was a bad example.  
  
  
At any rate, vampires couldn't afford to wallow in guilt and Nicholas was a textbook example of why. Guilt made you careless. If not for the advantage of his own age and authority as the sire, the Enforcers would have ended Nicholas quest for mortality long ago.  
  
  
Or given it to him in a far more permanent manner than his son was looking for.  
  
  
Not wishing to taste whatever noxious compound the youngster had applied to his skin to give it that light-grayish hue, Lacroix undid the small skull clasp off the cape, intent on uncovering an area close to the neck which would be free of any of the grayish makeup. The figure twitched a little as if voicing a protest at this violation of its personal space, but did not awaken.  
  
  
Undeterred by the increasing movement of his victim, Lacroix's cool fingers brushed apart the purple material that obscured the face, preparing to start on the two vest buttons and thence the jumpsuit zipper should the shoulder area be tainted as well. They stopped before even touching the small, silver discs.  
  
  
The sight that met his eyes upon the cowl's opening had driven away all thoughts of dining---at least for the moment. The former General for Rome's Imperial army raised an amused eyebrow.  
  
  
My, my... What a novel way to enforce the old adage that children should be seen and not heard!  
  
  
Perhaps, Lucien thought, he had underestimated his son after all? Such cruel efficiency was worthy of a Roman commander. But.. no, Nicholas was not into sadism---that was Lacroix's own predilection when other forms of persuasion proved fruitless. Even when his son had been younger, a confident--dare he say even 'cocky'?--vampire, Nicholas had prefered taunts and teasings when he'd played with his food. Outright torture made him uncomfortable. Which left the question as to why this child was still afflicted by the handicraft of a seamstress for the macabre. Why had the mortal not been packed off for treatment at the hands of the good doctor Lambert? Even if dawn had threatened, Nicholas knew all he had to do was call, and the woman would have rushed right over.  
  
  
Curious and more than a little perplexed at this unusual discovery, Lacroix reached out to touch the sewn mouth...  
  
_________________________________  
  
Like Lacroix? Ain't he a peach? (inside FK joke eg)  
Next up in Part 5, Wizardmon dreams of his first meeting with Lord Myotismon! 


	5. Vampiric Nightmares: Wizardmon

Part Five: Vampiric Nightmares: Wizardmon  
  
  
Wizardmon was having that nightmare again.  
  
He was back in Lord Myotismon's castle, watching helplessly as the blond-haired vampire digimon called upon his power of Crimson Lightning to hurt Gatomon---who had had the audacity to demand her master release her friend:  
  
"Wizardmon is only a Data, not a Virus, Myotismon!," the white cat had boldly spoken out in an effort to get the Data away from there. "You have plenty of others to fill your ranks---let him go!"  
  
A specious argument if ever the Viral Lord had heard one seeing as many great fighters were members of the Data caste. His face had shown his displeasure, a raging storm threatening to burst.  
  
Wizardmon had held his breath. He wished he could tell Gatomon to let it go--to stop feeling guilty for having dragged him into this, but he sensed that any arguments or explanations would simply enrage the Virus more. Why didn't Gatomon understand that it had been his choice to stay with her then as it was still his choice now?  
  
Her master had then provoked the gatomon more by intimating that if the Data was indeed so useless as a fighter then he would make her Lord a lite snack. Gatomon had unwisely reacted to this by striking at him with her taloned gloves.  
  
"Lightning Claw!"  
  
Such a blow had been easily blocked by the Ultimate, however, who then commenced inflicting on the cat his own great power until she was nearly unconscious.  
  
So this was why his only true friend had tried so hard to get him to stop following her before her master had shown up, Wizardmon thought grimly. Her lord was cruel, taking pleasure in other's pain. Gloved hands formed into fists of silent outrage. Wizardmon had never managed to find out what Digital World had meant his function as a Data digimon to be, but he'd decided right then and there what he, himself, was going to make it:   
  
Getting Gatomon back her life as she had given him his!  
  
Right now, however, any action on his part would be ill advised.  
  
Acting as guards, Ghostly Bakemon---their teeth-filled mouths perpetually frozen open in some sort of rictus---floated to either side of the Champion Data; while noisily flapping away over his head, the snickering, bat-like mon named Demidevimon held his wizard's staff in his pair of tri-toed bird's feet. Every once in a while the orange eyes would glance down at him, but mostly they stayed on his master. The Rookie was clearly relishing what was going on in the arena.  
  
Meanwhile the captive, himself, was filled with horrified frustration. Wizardmon's fingers itched to call his own power of Sky magic down upon these heartless Virals. But besides towering over everyone else physically, Myotismon was at Ultimate level---a state much more powerful than a mere Champion's as Gatomon's own futile attack had shown. Not to mention that they were surrounded by hordes of digimon ranging from Rookie to another Ultimate, the maroon-cloaked Phantomon who held onto his scythe like he knew how to use it and did so regularly. These naturally destructive Virus types were supplemented by a scattering of those like himself, Data, who generally did the mundane tasks. His own caste were not born twisted to evil, but their personal views were shaped by their environment. And Bios!---the wizard scowled---this was one twisted environment! Even if he'd been a Mega Vaccine sent to fight this 'Nightmare Army', he knew he'd have a hard time of it. As it was he'd have to prevail through his wits alone. Wizardmon silently swore that no matter what happened, he would not let these sway him back into a state of apathy--never mind evil functions. He had been cold and uncaring nearly all his life as a wizardmon. Gatomon's act of mercy had shown him another way---a wonderful way---and should it mean his own deletion back into random particles of data dust, he would remain true to it and to her. Together, they would escape from this tyrannical and vain vampire or be deleted trying. No! The latter was not an option! At least not as a fate for his friend. He'd just have to practice patience and stealth in order to endure until her freedom could be achieved.  
  
Appearing to sense the defiance still simmering within his most recent acquisition. Myotismon left off disciplining his lieutenant in order to inspect the new digimon.  
  
After arriving back home with both Champions in tow, he'd commanded his second-in-command to interrogate the stranger. Phantomon had soon informed his Lord that the one he'd found with Gatomon was a wizardmon who insisted on his neutrality regarding the different fights for control of Digital World. Earlier as he had ridden back to his castle, Myotismon had been too elated with getting the gatomon back to pay much attention, but if what Phantomon said was true... well, he'd never had a wizard under his command before--that classification was not common even in the Viral and Vaccine castes. A pity it wasn't a Virus. But Datas were at least malleable. This fellow should not be as much trouble to subdue as Gatomon was.  
  
The Data versions of demon-men commonly called 'wizards' were hardly ever created by the System---Myotismon had never heard of either wizardmons or their Vaccine-caste version, sorcerymons, being sighted for many decades. Which was the main reason he had ignored Gatomon's insistence that the fellow was an insignificant nothing who had just happened to wander in before Myotismon showed up. System created nothing without a reason. If it chose this inauspicious time to throw a wild card into the World, then he wanted it close by to keep an eye on it. Perhaps it held some important quality like he sensed was in Gatomon?  
  
His own superior, Lord Piedmon, was a Mega-level Wizard and---perhaps significantly---the strongest of the Dark Lords. It might be that that classification held some special prominence to System.  
  
Myotismon critically eyed the short biped at his feet.  
  
If so, it was not immediately obvious, he thought wryly and with not a little disappointment.  
  
So...this ragged figure was the form which a Champion-level Data Wizard took on? Well, it did not appear terribly impressive, but perhaps when it reached Ultimate level---under Myotismon's own, special brand of encouragement, of course---this digimon would prove as worthy an underling as Phantomon.  
  
"What is the matter, my wizardmon? Are you afraid of witnessing a little discipline? Don't tell me you are unused to seeing spilled blood?" the Virus chuckled.  
  
"I am not your wizardmon," Wizardmon muttered to himself.  
  
Demidevimon heard him, however, and maliciously repeated his words aloud along with what he thought should be done with the prisoner.  
  
The Ultimate chuckled, waving the Rookie Virus to silence. "On that assessment I must differ, Wizardmon. You belong to me because I wish it." His voice hardened when he added, "And I expect an immediate answer to any question I ask of my soldiers."  
  
When his captive remained silent, Myotismon used his power to levitate the smaller digimon up closer to his eye level. The vampire then casually knocked off the pointed hat with a flick of his finger, the other hand forcing the wizard's chin up by yanking downward on the hair tie that held the ends of the waist-long strands in a small ponytail.  
  
"Should I need to instill in you the definitions of the words 'immediate' and 'answer' digimon? the Virus snapped. "Look at me, little Data. Is this neutrality you profess founded on a fear of witnessing bloodshed?"  
  
For an instant, green eyes glared balefully back before looking away, their focus unconsciously diverting onto the bleeding Gatomon who was struggling to get back on her rear paws---with little success.  
  
Damn, damn, damn--the bastard had hurt her terribly! Wizardmon internally growled at the sight of of all these digimon not making a move. Every piece of him yearned to go over and help.  
  
(Patience.. Submit. Passive deception over brute strength or he'd be no aid to her whatsoever. This Ultimate would pulverize him before he so much as started an attack!)  
  
"No," Wizardmon muttered sullenly, careful to let just a bit of fear taint his reply. Let the Virals believe he was unused to seeing others tortured; though, not too much lest they decide he was weak and useless to them. It was a fine line he was planning to walk!  
  
"But, you are afraid of me and what you've seen of my power?" Myotismon pressed.  
  
"Yes," Wizardmon admitted in almost a snarl, sensing that the Virus wanted to see some fighting spirit as well as subservience from him.  
  
Myotismon's dark lips twisted into a smirk as his eyes followed his captive's gaze.  
  
"Good. Your fear shows you have some modicum of intelligence then, even though you would still defy me. But perhaps you fear something else even more than your own pain, do you not, little digimon?" At Wizardmon's carefully maintained blank look, Myotismon clarified, "It hurts you to see her suffer."  
  
Oh--damn!  
  
Realizing his mistake, the wizard hastily tore his gaze away from the cat to his own, dangling feet while his mind searched for the best way to answer; now painfully aware of the need to do damage control. "Why would I be concerned about a Vaccine?" Wizardmon asked, doing his best to sound apathetic to the very idea of caring about anyone but himself. It wasn't like he hadn't any practice at displaying that attitude before. So why was it so hard to summon it now?  
  
Because he'd never had to fake apathy since he'd advanced into a newly evolved wizardmon-class digimon, that was why!  
  
Fangs brushed the wizard's ear as Myotismon whispered to him, "Why..indeed. An interesting question, small one. But you do not fool me, wizard, I can see that you are attracted to her. Gatomon is pretty, is she not?" He opened his mouth, licking his fangs. "But as enjoyable as this conversation has been, it is time to surrender to the inevitable. Bare your neck, my soldier and suffer my bite."  
  
Wizardmon's had discovered early on that one of his many talents in Champion form was the ability to 'mind read' others. It worked best on the simpler mon, getting progressively more difficult with those of considerable will until all he could truly discern were random emotions and basic desires. Maybe that was just as well. He didn't really want to clearly see what the Virus was intending just now. The stories his In-Training clique had told to scare each other was unnerving enough. Vampire bites were reputed to hurt worse than other kinds.  
  
Hesitantly, his fingers awkwardly fumbled with the small skull clasp what with the intensity his anger. Reading the Virus' skittering dark thoughts concerning his supposed infatuation with Gatomon was infuriating. He didn't want to possess her---he wished to free her!  
  
Wizardmon let his cloak fall to the floor. He studiously forced down a smile at Myotismon's facial expression as his mouth was revealed, it was kind of perversely pleasurable that he had managed to give the arrogant digimonster pause! Instead, he concentrating on loosening his vest and flight suit enough so that he could comply with his new---if temporary---'captor's' wishes. (Under no circumstances would he start thinking of this Virus as his 'master'!)  
  
An invisible energy forced his head to turn from one side to the other and back again.  
  
"Now I see your interest in Gatomon is indeed in her looks," Myotismon sneered. "Such beauty appeals to you, trapped in your own lack thereof. You wish to chain it to your keeping. To bind it close forever. Isn't that right, my wizardmon" the Virus accused, with an emphasis on 'my'.  
  
His prisoner ruthlessly forced down the cry that wanted to escape from his mouth, nearly choking on his suppressed, yet growing outrage at the vampire's insinuations--now heard as words with his ears instead of just sensed in the mind.  
  
How dare he! Gatomon was an angel of goodness! everyone here--and he included himself in this--were but garbage-filled storage banks compared to her! If he only had the needed power level, he'd blast that smarmy face into--!  
  
Oh, he was so angry for the Vaccine's sake! Not to mention his own irritation at the continuous references to his being 'little' or referred to as a piece of property. No, he wasn't anywhere near tall, especially compared to the lanky Viral---but neither was he some diminutive... Patomon, either!  
  
And I will never truly be 'yours'! the indignant wizard silently fumed. Never!  
  
Wizardmon didn't voice any of these thoughts out loud. However, he could not keep the smoldering jade of his eyes from revealing to the Virus what did not choose to verbalize. He was just too pissed!  
  
"Ah, so there is a fire burning deep within this miniature volcano," the now intensely hated voice chuckled. "I will make a deal with you, my feisty little Champion. Follow my leadership and I will end Gatomon's punishment. I will even put you under her command after you've both recovered your strength, and there you can find out for yourself that you will more likely get the attention of her Lightning Claw than earn her favor." Myotismon grinned an evil little grin as he added as if by afterthought: "Refuse, and I will kill her slowly and painfully while you watch."  
  
Wizardmon stiffened. He sensed the vampire was bluffing---but what if he was wrong? Gatomon dead? He could not chance that! Closing his eyes, he concentrated on stilling the trembling in his heart.  
  
"You will submit?"  
  
(Yes. But for only as long as I must.)  
  
"I am yours to command, Lord Myotismon," he meekly answered, bowing as much as the monster's energy grip on him would allow. But inside he was still seething. Having to capitulate before this egomaniacal sadist rankled!  
  
Myotismon let the satisfaction shine from his eyes.   
  
"Yes... an interesting question, indeed. And an equally intriguing answer to it," the Virus whispered as if to himself. He'd found and manipulated the Data's weakness almost too easily! Whatever the System had originally planned for this one, the wizardmon was his now. Oh, it would be interesting to see what form the Champion would digivolve into when he reached Ultimate and Mega. Perhaps Gatomon would be wise to not treat him too harshly lest her would-be admirer turn on her later on. Not, he thought with a perverse chuckle, that she would remember her 'friend' after he'd sufficiently masked the Vaccine's memories of her past to nip any future escape attempts in the bud. ..And to frustrate this one's yearnings. Lord Myotismon mentally laughed in delight at the thought. Innocent Desire when continuously thwarted was easily twisted into its evil twin, Possession, if done by a master hand. A hobby he'd enjoy give some of his attention to---after the DigiDestined brats were dealt with.  
  
Wizardmon swallowed anxiously as the vampire's fangs teasingly nipped at his chin.  
  
(Patience. Endure. This won't last. Think of the look in Gatomon's eyes when she's free of this abomination.)  
  
Then there was a finger pressing against the sensitive bindings on his mouth as he heard Myotismon's disgust-filled words instruct the bat-winged rat, "Demidevimon...after I've feasted, take him down and and have the Bakemon do something about these...things. I find them aesthetically displeasing."  
  
"Sure thing, boss! When were done, you won't find so much as a--"  
  
"And, Demidevimon?"  
  
The eager Rookie Virus zoomed to the floor and bowed low, the two ribbonesque strips that adorned the top of his head cover draping along the floor as he did so. "Yeah, boss? You name it---I'm you're mon! Evil wishes fulfilled without question! What'll it be? Slow torture? Extra screams? Hold the blood? For dinner, of course."  
  
His Lord smirked as he purposefully crushed the Rookie's hopes. DemiDevimon was his most loyal lackey--and the most annoying.  
  
"Phantomon is in charge of both their extraction and his keeping until Gatomon is sufficiently recovered...not you. As long as he is faithful to me, only I, he and Gatomon are to discipline him. You are not to touch him at all---understood?"  
  
Snarling under his breath, the rat-like digimon whacked Wizardmon staff against the hard floor in frustration, upset that he was never allowed to have any real fun.  
  
Wizardmon winced upon hearing his implement being thus abused against the stone floor. But then he had more pressing things to deal with as twin agony stabbed through the base of his neck.  
  
System---help me!  
_________________________________ 


	6. Vampiric Nightmares: Nicholas

Part Six: Vampiric Nightmares: Nicholas  
  
(Note to reader: Parts 4, 5,and 6 are taking place at the same time.)  
  
He was running.  
  
Running and not flying for the sky wasn't safe for travel despite its being an ally. The sky was being monitored by the orange moon that watched for signs of their movement. It was better to be underground and away from the moon and its tireless companion, the cluster of yellow stars called The Hunters.  
  
That was why they were running in the sewers and not flying beneath the stars: They would kill them both if they caught him.  
  
Nicholas glanced down at his own companion, Raleigh. The large canine's purple and gold coat was shiny with sweat, making the odd white markings that were scattered upon it stand out even more. The dog was panting from exertion, but the eyes spoke back with a quiet faith that they would make it no matter the odds.  
  
Good old, Raleigh.  
  
How Nicholas wished he had even half the confidence in his skills his companion thought he did.  
  
They turned a corner, Raleigh growling lightly at the darkness behind them.  
  
Nicholas paused to listen, hearing nothing but the drip, drip of water and the occasional squeal of a rat.   
  
He shuddered. Rats were evil. Had they been tracked even here?  
  
But it was only Janette, his eternal sibling and one-time wife---though not in holy matrimony---who stepped out of the blackness; the rich finery of a 15th-Century bridal gown clinging to her form, untouched by the stinking muck of the sewer they were hiding in.  
  
"Ghosts and goblins, Nicola.." the raven-haired seductress whispered. "You were always chasing after ghosts...or were they chasing after you?"  
  
"Janette?" Nicholas breathed, confused by her words and appearance. His old lover pulled him in for a kiss.  
  
"Blink and they'll all be ghosts, mon coeur," the softly spoken sounds were whispered into his ear. "Blink... and they'll all be gone..."  
  
Startled, Nicholas pulled away. Those had been another's words!  
  
Sure enough his ancient master was also standing there, dressed in late 18th-century garb, holding him in a tight grip while laughing grimly at the other's consternation.  
  
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son.."  
  
"Lacroix?!" Nick tried to step back, out of his sire's embrace, but his elder's hold was too strong.  
  
The Roman gave a tight smile as he continued to quote from Lewis Carrol:  
  
"..the jaws that bite---the claws that catch! Beware the Jujub bird and shun---the thunderous Bandersnatch!"  
  
Nicholas frowned at him, somewhat annoyed that he and Raleigh's escape had been delayed for this nonsense. "What are..?"  
  
"Nicola.." Janette crooned, touching his cheek. "Won't you walk into my parlor..?" Janette asked him, before their sire interjected his own musing,  
  
"And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.."   
  
Amber eyes shone in the darkness as they spoke almost on top of each other:  
  
"..through the valley of the Shadow of Death.."  
  
"..spoke the Raven, nevermore..."  
  
Hewitt? Poe? The Psalms? Bewildered, Nicholas looked from one to the other, trying to draw away from them. Where had Raleigh gone to? Why was his 'family' quoting these morbid lines of poetry at him?  
  
"I don't.." But the pair were fading before his eyes.  
  
"Beware, Nicholas...beware.." The vamped out Roman gave one last warning before he disappeared entirely.  
  
De Brabant spun around as he heard a scream echoing down the sewers. Who was screaming? Raleigh?!  
  
Raleigh was screaming!  
  
He awoke in a bloodsweat, the scarlet sheen coating his skin. Exhaling slowly, he wiped at his brow with the palm of one hand.  
  
Only a dream, Nicholas thought---until he heard Wizardmon's panicky yell coming from below followed immediately by another, different yelp of surprise.  
  
Leaping out of bed Nicholas sprang for his bedroom door, the sleepiness fading away from him even as he stumbled out onto the top of his staircase. That other exclamation had sounded like..!  
  
The sight that met his eyes did short work of rousing him to full-blown awareness.  
  
(Oh, god! Not him! Not now! )  



	7. An Impromptu Tête à tê

Part Seven: An Impromptu Tête à tê  
  
Lacroix was just as confused as his would-be prey, but working under considerably less moral restraint. That weird spark of electricity had hurt! Okay, it had not truly injured him---but that was not the point! This diminuative escapee from a costume shop---who silly hat hardly reached the heighth of his lapels---had dared to strike him. Roaring, he bared his fangs, readying to attack.  
  
Immediatelly, two things happened, to make him hesitate:  
  
The staff ornament was aimed at the vampire's chest, its owner bracing itself as if expecting the recoil from a blast of some sort.  
  
Strands of long, antique-gold hair were shoved aside as pointed animal-ears unflattened and swiveled forward like an alarmed doe's.  
  
Swiveled?  
  
Swiveled!  
  
What by Zeus' name?!   
  
Then the staff was lowered lowered again as the--'child's'?--eyes widened, intent on something past the Roman's shoulder,  
  
"NO, LACROIX!---don't touch him!"  
  
The ancient didn't even glance back as the younger vampire came barreling down the stairs still clad in his silk pajamas, one hand clutching a robe as he looked on the confrontation with rising alarm.  
  
"Oh, I plan on doing much more than mere touching," Lacroix hissed. "Stay out of this, Nicholas!"  
  
Predictably, his son ignored his elder's warning and moved to stand protectively in front of his guest, eyes golden and fangs lowered in warning.  
  
"Leave him alone, Lacroix! Wizardmon is my guest and welcome to stay for as long as he wants---which is more than can be said of you."  
  
"Ah..so now its freaks as well as humans before family, is it?" Lacroix snorted derisivously. "Wizardmon. What sort of name is that?" He traded glares with the digimon before gracefully sliding into one of Nick''s leather chairs as if the loft was his own domicile and nothing ontoward had happened--when in fact he was utterly taken aback. Languidly gesturing at the bareheaded and unmasked digimon, he stalled for time to recover his inward composure by asking, "Whatever is it you've gotten yourself involved in now, Nicholas?"  
  
Nick glowered, not at all deceived by the other's change in manner. Like himself, his sire could move faster than the human eye could see and be at the digimon's throat before Wizardmon could blink. His guest did not know what he was up against and Nicholas wasn't about to let his guard down. "It's not your concern. And don't you have a radio show to prepare for, NightCrawler?" Nicholas asked, using Lacroix's performing name. "If you leave now you'll just make it."  
  
Still smiling, Lacroix clicked his tongue. "Recording tape. A wonderful invention---I'm sure you've heard of it. Unlike you, mon fils, I plan my strategies in advance. A pity as I'd rather hoped back when I brought you across that I'd also be gaining a good chess partner. Instead, I seemed to have acquired only another piece of the game: a black knight who futily tries to turn himself white."  
  
"How disappointed you must be in me," Nicholas snidely scoffed. "But what activities and hobbies I choose to interest myself in are not your concern." (Damn. Why did his sire have to show up now? Oh, sh**---the fight! He was here to continue yesterevening's fight.)  
  
"Well, you do have your good points," the ancient rather backhandidly praised his son before continuing with: "As for the rest... I'm your father. That makes your..hobbies..my concern!"  
  
"I'm not some fledgling you have to monitor! Stay out of my affairs!"  
  
"Perhaps if you start acting like one should with your centuries, I wouldn't need to step in! This predisposition of yours towards ones not of your own kind...Dogs, humans, this..this...whatever it is---" Lacroix waved a hand in the digimon's general direction. "Really, Nicholas! Your choice of company is too dangerous! I've warned you and warn--"  
  
"Warned?!" De Brabant spat. "Warned? You forced me to destroy Raliegh. You've killed or threatened nearly every human I've tried to--"  
  
"Nearly?" Lacroix put a finger to his lips as he mockingly pretended to search his memory. "I seem to recall you did your own share of slaughter... But who had I missed other that your most recent--"  
  
"Bastard!" Nicholas' formerly blue eyes went from amber to blood red with anger. "If you'd only quit trying to manipulate everything!"  
  
His sire responded with his own ruby stare. "Watch your tongue, mon fils!"  
  
"I can't believe how stupid I was to foreswear Heaven to be with you." Nicholas began to pace in a tight circle, gesturing in his agitation. "You promised me a thousand lifetimes---and you won't allow me to live one of them! This isn't eternal life! It's a.. a goddamn, everlasting, Punch and Judy play! And NOW you're trying to kill Wizardmon just like everyone else who mattered to me!"  
  
"I made you, not these others. You are my creation! My son!"  
  
"And such a loving father you make to!"   
  
Almost forgotten as the two vampire's tempers flared to wildfire levels, a stunned Wizardmon eased himself into the remaining chair.  
  
Father? he thought in surprise. Wasn't that the word the human Digi-Destined had called the larger humans that Myotismon had held hostage in order to flush out the eighth Destined child?' Yes, 'mothers' and 'fathers', 'sisters' and 'brothers'---kidnapped enmass in order to have Gatomon point out her preordained partner. TK and Izzy, those of the Destined children who had fished him out of the river Myotismon's bats had left him to drown in, had been very upset about the kidnappings. Such relationships were considered extra special. At least, that was what he had understood from the short time he had been with the two young humans.  
  
But his new friend, Nick, did not seem to hold this one in high regard. Quite the opposite in fact. Wizardmon could feel the fear within his friend. Nick was terribly afraid of the other. Anger rose inside the wizard's heart. Nick should not have to fear anything! And yet... there was more to this than fear. Especially for that split moment when he'd first felt his host's presence come into the room. It was that secondary, background feeling emanating from Nicholas which had made him abort his own 'attack': behind the anger, bloomed respect and need.  
  
Probably just as well, the Data decided, for with the shaping of that thunder ball his defensive abilities had been reduced to mere bluffing. Gravity was pulling ever increasingly at his body. He hated feeling so heavy.  
  
Now, there was an uneasy thought---being so vulnerable when another might need his assistance, so Wizardmon turned his mind to puzzling out the problem before him.  
  
Could it be... all humans, tended to act like Datas? For Datas naturally lived everything in gray, where Virals acted in darkness and the Vaccines in the light. The Real World's children had seemed neither good nor bad, though Kari was remarkable for her lean to the light." Wizardmon smiled, glad that Gatomon had been given such a worthy partner. He wished he'd had a chance to know her better---and to study the 'parents' of the DigiDestined more before Myotismon had acted. Perhaps this neutrality was a universal 'human' trait?  
  
Then what was this Lacroix? The digimon concentrated on the human and got mixed results. Nick's own feelings were jumbled---a twisted knot of needs---, which only served to confuse the digimon more. 'Perhaps I've spent too much time lately in the company of the Virals to properly see the shades of gray?' Wizardmon sighed. Still, this new one definitely held the shadow of darkness around him. He should warn his companion of this fact.  
  
Wizardmon got back onto his feet, using his staff for extra support.  
  
"TK said that parents were good like the Vaccines. You do not act like a Vaccine." the digimon pointed out to Lacroix, startling both vampires---who had been about to start tossing each other about the room. That was when they realized that the alien addresing them was speaking while his mouth remained firmly shut.  
  
Telepathy--or some form of ventriloquism? Nicholas wondered.  
  
"A Vaccine?" Lacroix forced a chuckle as he recovered from his surprise. "I've been called many things over the centuries, Nicholas, but never that. Don't tell me more science fiction slang has been foisted unto the masses' vocabulary. The language is polluted enough." He used his arms to push the younger vampire away as he took a step towards the digimon. At any rate, it is your friend's pedigree that needs addressing and not mine."  
  
"Science fic..shun slang?" the green eyes blinked in puzzlement, risking a look towards Nicholas for clarification. Was this 'Lacroix' casting a spell of some sort? He gripped his staff harder, preparing to retaliate in kind---um...bluff it, anyway.  
  
Their host was back between the two before either could do anything. "His home is.." Nick awkwardly tried to explain. "Wizardmon is a..foreigner."   
  
"Obviously," his sire dryly replied. "But from where, exactly?"  
  
"Uh... Asia."  
  
Slanted, jade-colored eyes regarded the elder right back as the vampire gazed critically at the inhuman and highly mobile ears.   
  
Lacroix fixed his son with a look that said what he'd always thought of Nick's ability at fabrication---and that it had taken a serious turn even further south.  
  
"If he is of asian descent, then I am Yoda's nephew. Or are you implying he is some runt of the fictional Yeti." Lacroix quipped in amused disgust. "I think it's plain your 'friend', Nicholas, is not from anywhere documented by the National Geographic Society." He lifted a regal eyebrow, daring his son to argue.  
  
"Yeah... " Nick gave in with a fatallistc shrug. There didn't seem any point not to. Anyhow, Lacroix had a knack for finding out all his secrets eventually. "Well, he just sort of... fell on me."  
  
"Fell on you?"  
  
"From the sky," De Brabant elaborated by pointing a finger ceilingward. "He says he's a digital monster of some sort from someplace called Digital World. Maybe its another planet. Maybe another universe." He blushed. God, but that sounded ridiculous even to his own ears! "Oh, hell, Lacriox, for all I know its part of Disney Word and he's an animatronic that's gone amok."  
  
"Animatronics do not have heartbeats."  
  
"I know that!" He rubbed his forehead, feeling fatigued. Confronting his father always left him feeling exhausted. "What's important is that he was hurt, so I brought him here."  
  
"Of course."  
  
The ancient's responses were weighted with sarcasm to which his son responded by balling his fists.  
  
"It's the truth! And what should I have done?!"---the knight growled in irritation at his maker---"Leave him for a human to find?"  
  
No, Lacroix silently agreed as he again looked the alien up and down: inhuman skin color, smallish nose, those ears. And that mouth! If the mortals saw this, they might start taking notice of other strange things within their midst. Like people who shunned the daylight and never ate anything solid---and never seemed to age. No, Nicholas had done the right thing in keeping this creature out of the public's eye. The question was, what should be done with it now?  
  
Extermination would be best; followed by cremation of the remains. Safer for the vampire Community. But somehow, he doubted Nicholas would see it that way---it was obvious his emotional child had become infatuated with the little monster. This was no longer 19th century Croyden nor was this 'Wizardmon' a dumb animal. Nicholas would fight hard for its existence; not cave in as he had been manipulated to with that annoying beast, Raleigh. Nor could Lacroix force that caving in again by turning the alien into a carouche as---unlike the dog---this 'wizardmon' was as yet an unknown property and unpreditable piece in the game.  
  
Was its blood even palatable?  
  
Lacroix hated the unpredictable. They were dangerous elements, best avoided, yet Nicholas always turned a blind eye to such facts once his heart inevitably became involved. But he could still press his point without becoming the direct target of his son's ire.  
  
"As fascinating as having an alien to converse with would be, the Enforcers will not allow this, Nicholas. You know that. They will demand your new pet's destruction."  
  
"Wizardmon is not a 'pet'. And nothing will happen. Not if they don't find out."  
  
Lacroix merely continued to stare at him until his offspring fairly exploded in exasperation:  
  
"I'll think of something!"  
  
"Undoubtedly. But will it be something effective," Lacroix dryly returned, moving into position. "If it comes down between your well being or this.. digital monster's, Nicholas, you know what action I will take. And if you truly mean to fight for the creature, I would suggest that you switch your brand of food to something more wholesome. Animal blood is for carouches---not worthy fare for the elite. Not for us. I shall have Janette send you a case of the Raven's special reserve."  
  
And within the blink of an eye, the elder was gone from the loft.  



	8. Conflicting Input

I hope you all are enjoying this AU. If not...too bad! eg I write what I like. However, any good (and clean, I won't accept anything past PG-14) suggestions will be taken under consideration.  
  
  
Part Eight: Conflicting Input  
  
Letting out his pent-up breath, Nicholas sighed in relief. "He's left. I think."  
  
Neither digimon nor vampire was terribly displeased by that realization.  
  
"You are afraid of him." his guest said solemnly in a way that was not a question.  
  
Nicholas shrugged. "Lacroix is older and stronger. And a poor teacher. He's made no bones about have kept certain skills from my 'curriculum' so I stay at a disadvantage with him." It was the closest De Brabant would come to admitting aloud his fear of Lacroix's displeasure, of what his sire might really be capable of if he became irrevocabley ticked off.  
  
Wizardmon looked thoughtfully up at the chair Lacroix had sat in. "He is concerned. Afraid for you...because of me." The mental voice from the digimon hesitated, the unseen corners of his mouth twisting downward.. "I am a danger to you?" Sharp eyes fixed on his host, demanded honesty.  
  
Feeling oddly reluctant to answer the question, De Brabant sidestepped it.  
  
"Not directly," Nick said, running his hand through his hair. He went to his refrigerator to get himself an unmarked wine bottle, taking another goblet from the cupboard. "But you don't look human and he's concerned that you'll be seen. Finding you, humans might take another look at my kind---and people tend to be afraid of things that are unfamiliar to them. How do you know what Lacroix felt anyway?"  
  
"I just do." Wizardmon replied as he searched for, found, and proceeded to secure the cowl back over his shoulders. (Having worn the thing for so long for pure necessity's sake, he now felt a little uncomfortable without it.) "The less intelligent, the more I can pick up." He chuckled a little. "The Bakemon are easy, their thoughts are distinct words in my head---its almost impossible not to read them. Lacroix and Myotismon are very hard, a thick hide with only little chinks in it to peer through."---the sound of an amused snort came from the kitchen---"Now...your feelings are like a cloak that you wear," the digimon went on. "At times, they open and I get clear thoughts as well." He tilted his head as if studying the human as he re-entered the main area. "You are not afraid of me. Unsure... but not afraid."  
  
Nick smiled woefully as he poured out some of the cow's blood into his glass. "I'm not human," he said, saluting the wizard monster with with the glass before downing his 'breakfast'. "And I was a little afraid when I first saw you. It's not every century that a vampire meets a digimon."  
  
The Champion froze.  
  
A vampire? He hadn't read that!!  
  
Wizardmon looked askance at the empty glass, but said nothing, his mind awhirl of conflicting thoughts.  
  
Why had he not realized this before? He had not known that his rescuer was a vampire until now, but it made sense. Lacroix had been about to bite him. He was Nick's father. Nick had said he was on a restricted diet. Both sported fangs. The talk of blood. Memories of Myotismon's elongated eyeteeth in his neck came to the fore and he shuddered. If he had found out earlier about his host's sanguinary diet... Should he be accepting this Real Worlder so readily? Still, Nick was not acting like Myotismon---quite the contrary. But he was a vampire! Had not Myotismon possessed a stately bearing as Nicholas did? On the other hand, Nick was caring for him as Gatomon had done so long ago.  
  
'Vampires cannot be trusted,' part of his mind argued. 'They are crafty and self-serving. What happened to Gatomon alone showed this. Myotismon tricked her with lies.'  
'But I want to trust this one,' the other countered.   
'Why?' his own voice shot back, demanding an answer.  
'I...don't know, but I do, despite what experience says. I do not believe that Nick is Viral in nature.'  
'Yet neither does he feel as a Vacinne. And are you so experienced at reading the intentions of Real Worlders? Human or vampire, these here are not digimon. This is not even Kari's Earth, let alone a place you are familiar with!'  
'And where, exactly, should I go to?'  
'Anywhere but here. This Lacroix is stronger, jealous of his own--- and he hates you for the sake of this one.'  
  
His imaginary 'devil's advocate' let it drop then, but not before having made a telling point. It was too risky to trust a vampire---even a polite one. This place was not safe to stay in. Having just suffered deletion, he wasn't anxious to experience it again so soon! Yet... where else could he go?  
  
"You're father is afraid of me," Wizardmon said to the vampire as he re-centered his awareness on the outside.  
  
"Lacroix?" Nick snorted, pouring himself another glass of steer's blood. The rim of the goblet hesitated before his mouth as De Brabant reconsidered. "Possibly. Though it is hard to imagine him afraid of anything."  
  
"He fears.. and, perhaps with reason. When I am at my best, I have the power to damage him," Wizardmon told him. He did not mean to brag, but it was the truth. Real Worlders were frail compared to digimon. "And you are not afraid that I could do the same to you?"  
  
"As I said before.. a little. When I first realized you were not anything I had ever seen before."  
  
"But not now?" he pressed the vampire, trying to gauge what he should do. "You do not fear me now.. even a little?" ---and felt a wash of mixed emotions as his host verbally confirmed his earlier impression.  
  
"No," Nick responded after giving the question a few second's thought. A glance at a clock made him frown. "I'm going to be late for work." Quickly, he rinsed out his glass and set it down to dry. "I'm sure now that you mean no one harm---unless they mean you harm first." He smiled. "Call it a detective's intuition."  
  
Wizardmon felt himself flush with pleasure that the vampire trusted and accepted him so readiy---which sparked another wave of confusion as well as a little guilt that he wasn't able to reciprocate as easily.  
  
'I should not be pleased! This is a vampire. It would be better if he did fear me. What is to keep him from attacking what he does not fear?' And yet there still was no sense of subterfuge--no threat--emanating from Nicholas. From what Lacroix had stated, it was he, himself, who threatened the vampire's well being.  
  
Was that bad or good?  
  
Well... there was an obvious solution to his dilemna.  
  
Wizardmon's torn heart recoiled at his mind's suddenly made-up intention, but it was necessary. His very being screamed both to run away from those fanged teeth and to keep this one safe as he had tried to do for Gatomon.  
  
According to Lacroix's words---which Nicholas had not gainsaid---the best way to do that was to leave. And the sooner the better before this compelling Real Worlder became even more fixed on his mind. Leaving was the best compromise to soothe the cival war raging within him. Bowing, Wizardmon took up his hat and set it back on his head, features once again hidden save for around his eyes and the long hair.   
  
"I thank you for your trust and kindness, Nick. But I do not wish to endanger you. I will depart. If caught, you have my word of honor that I will not give your secret away."  
  
"What? You want to leave?"  
  
"It is for the best."  
  
"Like hell!" Nick growled. "You're better off with me. Stay here." He looked with dismay at the sun-shaped clock on his wall. "Look...I'm really late for work now, but as soon as I can I'll book off and we'll go see Nat." Without waiting for a reply, Nick flew upstairs and got dressed, flying back mere minutes later to retrieve his wristwatch and police badge from a wooden box. He used the remote to turn on the television from which a rerun of The Day The Earth Stood Still was just beginning to start. "Watch some tv, make yourself comfortable, okay? And let the answering service pick up any calls. The less people who find out about you, the better or you may find yourself the object of a monster hunt. And here, being a monster is not considered normal or a good thing."  
  
Reluctantly, Wizardmon nodded is assent---though darned if he knew what an answering service was. With a sigh, he settling onto the couch. He was really too tired to travel just yet anyway. Resting for a short while might be better than falling into another dead faint outside. However, afterwards he would depart regardless of the vampire's warning not to.  
  
Smiling reassuringly back at Wizardmon, Nick opened the stair doors, locking it behind him, and went down to his waiting cadillac, a 1962 teal convertable---but not before keying in some instructions into his security computer.   
  
  
The vampire frowned as he settled in the driver's seat and started up the engine of his beloved car. He was definitely going to be later for work than he had ever been before! Schanke would razz him no end even if Captain Cohen did not give him the evil eye before docking him for being tardy. He sighed as he pulled out of his warehouse abode and into the street.  
  
Damn, but if he didn't miss the little digimon's presence already. But at least now he was assured that---barring Undead meddling---the Digital Worlder would still be there when he got back.  
_______________________  
  
After the movie ended, Wizardmon pondered its storyline. Such a sad tale. But at least the silver mechanoid digimon 'Gort' had managed to save the life of his human partner. That was good.  
  
He thought of Nick and felt a wave of guilt. Nick was alone. He should not be alone. The vampire had requested that his guest stay put, but what if Nick got into trouble? Was attacked? Who knew what sort of dangers this reality contained.  
  
'What do I care? He's a vampire!' Wizardmon reminded himself for the upteenth time. 'Vampires are my enemies. I am not interested in being near one let alone watching over him!'  
  
Yet the more he tried to push the feeling away, the stronger it got. "This is ridiculous!" the wizard monster upbraided himself, gently tugging on the pointed tips of both his ears. "I am not partnered to him. We are not bonded." And yet the feeling just grew stronger.  
  
So did his hunger---and a quick perusal of Nick's cabinets did not yield any more of that pop corn stuff. He did find a metal container of something marked 'Yuban' and ate it wth a goblet of water. The taste was not nearly as good as the smell had suggested, however it gave him a nice burst of energy. Enough to lighten the awful weight that he'd been having to drag around since landing in the reality.  
  
Yes, that did nicely. For starters.  
  
Faced with a demanding stomach and an equal need to see the vampire again, Wizardmon moved over to the stairs, but found the door wouldn't budge. A few minutes later he discovered the service lift and tugged until it opened. The digimon pushed against the walls, including the buttons he found on one side, tried different spells, but nothing happened. The vampire's portals must be damaged or something, he thought, not knowing that Nick had shut the lift down and locked the stairway so that the digimon was not disturbed by unannounced visitors. The human variety anyway. Getting out again, he searched for another exit to no avail---sturdy metal covers had come down and covered the large windows not long after the vampire had left. The place was locked up tighter than Myotismon's lair after dawn. So much for vacating it! Was he meant to be a prisoner?   
  
He was about to give up...until he remembered Lacroix's disappearance act. Going to where the elder vampire had last stood, Wizardmon studied the floor.  
  
Nothing there. No hidden trap door of any kind that he could see.  
  
Frustrated, he looked up.  
  
And grinned. 


	9. Mass Consumption: It Does A Digimon Goo...

Part Nine: Mass Consumption: It Does A Digimon Good!  
  
The cloaked figure was keeping to the shadows as he crept along various building walls. There were not many people to avoid and, fortunately, most didn't even give him more than a second glance so busy were they with their own doings. A dirty human sleeping in the gutter had a box of paper sticks filled with curled, tiny brown leaves, fermented grain juice, and a half-eaten hot dog. The white and yellow stick things smelled horrid, and he didn't care for alcohol's effects (being as he'd always believed it important to have your wits about you at all times), but the hot dog was spicy and felt good in his stomach, which happily set about transforming the carbon molecules into useable energy. In payment for the meal, the digimon used a simple magic spell to mend the man's torn clothing. That done, he continued his exploration of the city.  
  
He didn't get more than a block before his nose caught a tantalizing whiff not unlike that which had belonged to what he'd just consumed.  
  
More of the yummy food stuffs nearby? And these smelled absolutely heavenly! Wizardmon decided to take a short detour to investigate. At a street intersection a vendor was calling out "Charlie's Chili Dogs!" to pedestrians that came his way. Mouth watering, yet wary, he settled down in a dark corner to observe. Every once and a while a human would approach the cart to hand the white-aproned man some paper taken from their pant's pocket. White-apron would then put together a hot dog and hand it back, the recipients consuming the dogs while walking away. And the eaters thoughts radiated satisfaction.  
  
So all he needed was colored paper to get re-energized like everyone else?  
  
Making sure as little of his skin showed as possible, Wizardmon ambled closer as another customer came by. He used a bit of levitation to pull some of the paper from the unsuspecting human's pocket, paying close attention to what the paper looked like and how it compared to the one the human was holding onto in his hand.  
  
Intricate design. And on both sides too. Hmm..  
  
Slipping the paper back into its place, the digimon made a twisty gesture with his hands. There was a flash of blue light which faded to leave a perfect Canadian five-dollar bill behind.. Making sure his hair still covered his tell-tale ears, which he kept flat to his skull, he walked over to the vendor, head bowed.  
  
"Hey, kid, haven't seen you around before. Nice outfit you got there." Charlie waggled the business end of his cooking fork at the digimon in mock threat. "But it ain't Halloween, so none of that trick or treat line. It's cold cash today."  
  
Wizardmon responded to the mild sarcasm by extending his arm and gently moving his hand to indicate the piece of paper it held.  
  
"Oh, so this isn't a hold up and you want to purchase a hot dog, eh? That's different," the vendor smiled. "Business been good and now you want eats for your dough."  
  
Business? Dough? The Data blinked. He was not a baker and had no dough. He merely craved some of those chili dog things. Just what was the human referring to? He tried reading his mind, but the man's thoughts were only on fixing his food and getting home at a decent hour. Wizardmon sighed. When he found Nick, he'd have to ask him, since he didn't want to speak out before humans lest they somehow realized he wasn't one of them.  
  
"I suppose you want the works?" the vendor asked as he deftly inserted a weiner into its bun. Predictably, the 'kid' nodded. (He couldn't tell whether male or female; today's 'anything goes' hairstyles made determining that a haphazard guess at best.) Well, regardless of their gender, street kids were always starving, Charlie Barnes knew. The vendor's gruff exterior hid a sympathetic heart. Once, he'd been stuck on the the wrong side of a homeless, too. Only back then, you could generally tell the boys from the girls right away, Charlie thought somewhat ruefully. He heaped on an extra scoop of relish and handed it to his shy customer before attempting to give him back his change. The kid refused it, pointing at the cooking hotdogs instead.  
  
"More? Well, never let it be said that old Charlie didn't aim to please his customers."  
  
Energetic head bobbing, then the hot dog disappeared under the brim of the witch hat. The kid must have wolfed it down because less than a minute later both hands were being held out again, with another fiver clutched in one of them.  
  
"Okay, bub."  
  
The vendor quickly produced another piece de resistance and the process was repeated until slightly more than twenty-five dollars worth of hot dog were resting comfortably in the Data's stomach.  
  
Mmmm! He felt so much better! Wizardmon hadn't meant to be such a greedy hogmon---eating so quickly his mouth stitches were tingling from the strain---, but those things had tasted so fabulous he'd lost all patience! He blushed a little as his personal conversion system burbled noisily in contentment, busily converting mass into more energy just waiting to be used. Bios, but if he didn't feel lighter than a Birdramon's feather again! Now he could search for a way home a lot faster.  
  
After he made sure that Nick was all right.  
  
And he was about to do just that when two menacing-looking humans walked up from behind him, bumping him aside as they went to either side of the vendor. The Champion got a bad feeling from both---and not just from their rudeness. He decided that maybe he'd just wait around a little longer to see what was up.  
  
One of the humans was colored in shades of brown, the other had black hair with paler skin and appeared to be somewhat older---at least, he was the taller of the two. Their minds were on the same thing everyone else's had been on as he approached the cart. But instead of producing a bit of paper, 'Black Hair' brought out a serrated-edged knife while 'Brown' gave the digimon a viscious kick that sent him sprawling against a nearby brick wall.  
  
"Get lost, kid!" Black Hair snarled at him.  
  
Shocked, the digimon focused more intently on reading the humans. The new ones' thoughts were filled with violence. And the vendor reeked of fear as the knife was held before his face.  
  
The human cook was afraid for his life!  
  
Wizardmon considered the ramifications of acting and decided that any reprecussions were worth it if he could help the one named Charlie.  
  
The brown human on the right--the one who had kicked him--was grabbing all the paper pieces from the cart and stuffing them in his jacket while the other kept the knife to the vendor's throat while helping himself to a half-made bun.  
  
"Looks like business has been good, Charlie. You won't mind if we share in the profits a bit, will you?"   
  
Dusting himself off, Wizardmon got up and went back over to the cart, the humans too busy to pay attention to the fact that his feet were floating several inches off the ground as he hovered there, staring at them.  
  
"Hey! Marty---that weirdo's back!" Black Hair, better known as Samuel Patterson, the leader of the two, said as he spotted the slightly bent tip of Wizardmon's hat from behind the other.  
  
Joey Martinez turned around with a scowl on his face. "So he is. Pocito must be some shade of loco or a dimwit, eh?" He advanced on the 'little one'. "Maybe I teach him to mind his elders better."   
  
Wizardmon knew the knife was the more dangerous as the vendor had no way to realistically defend himself from it. Which meant it needed to be dealt with first. Throwing his left hand forward he released a ball of weak energy at the weapon, careful not to directly hit the human behind it. (People, he recalled, were frail compared to digimon; slow to heal and easy to hurt. He didn't want to delete them by using too much power. Viral though these might be, it was not his place to judge them in their own world. The only concern was to stop them from injurying the vendor.)  
  
The knife heated up just enough to make its owner drop it, its strait shape forming into a harmless circle even before it hit the pavement.  
  
At the same time the digimon twisted to avoid the brown human's fist as it headed toward's his face.  
  
Joey was surpised to find himself punching nothing but air. Pulling back, he aimed a blow at Wizardmon's mid-section only to find it connecting instead with the funny-looking ornament of the staff. A jolt shot through his arm, making his whole body spasm before the sensation faded.  
  
"Yaa! Madre, Sam! This muchacho's packing some sort of stunner or something!" he yelped, shaking his numb hand.  
  
Now that he had their attention, Wizardmon decided it was time to get these human Virals away from their would-be victim. And he knew just the lure to use.  
  
Backing up, the digimon gestured. Another blue spark appeared as before, this time producing a large wad of five-dollar bills which he flaunted in front of the thieves before turning tail and running into an alley.  
  
Samuel Patterson's eye's had lit up with greed as he'd noted how much money the weird kid had just shown them.  
  
"Get him!"  
  
Joey dutifully followed his cohort's instructions and ran after the fleeing 'muchacho', his partner deciding to join in the pursuit as well since other people were starting to notice what was going on.  
  
Charlie leaned against his cart as the surge of adrenaline that had been running through his veins wore off.  
  
That had been too close!  
  
One of the car drivers yelled before driving off that he'd seen the robbery and had called it in. Shaking, the vendor acknowledged the driver as he stooped to pick up the abandoned knife. It had firmed into its new shape--that of an unusual bracelet. Mouthing a prayer, he tossed it into his cart to show to the police. Let them figure it out. He didn't want to know.   
__________________________________ 


	10. Dispatch? This Is 81 Kilo Responding...

Part Ten: Dispatch? This is 81 Kilo Responding...  
  
Nicholas was feeling rather guilty. Since leaving Wizardmon alone in his loft his mind kept flashbacking to the late, lamented Crown Prosecutor, Richard Lambert.  
  
Richard had been Natalie's brother. He'd been fatally shot not long ago when a suspect had gotten hold of a distracted officer's gun while in the precinct. At least it would have been fatally if a grief-stricken Natalie had not kept on him to bring Richard across as a vampire. He'd tried to refuse---he hated what he was and didn't want to bring another into this existance which he considered to be on the wrong side of Hell, but Natalie had been unrelenting and heartbroken and...darn it all, the look of pure terror in her eyes when Richard's heart monitor had flat lined! He'd given in at that last second, grabbing the man out of death's embrace.  
  
Waylaying his soul from Paradise.  
  
Of course it had been a disaster.  
  
Richard had been consumed by the power of the vampire and it had driven him to madness, twisting a good man of the law into a fiend driven by bloodlust. In order to save the Lambert family from his rabid creation, Nicholas had been forced to destroy Richard. Natalie blamed herself, but De Brabant was certain that it had all been his fault. If he had stayed by Richard instead of just giving the new fledgling a fast enumeration of what basic dangers to avoid. If he had called in sick and not left for work that night...  
  
Damn.  
  
Was he making the same mistake here?  
  
But the digimon was not a vampire, De Brabant reasoned. Where Richard's good looks had masked a blood-thirsty beast who had twisted a former sense of justice into a killing spree, Wizardmon seemed geniunely benevolant for a self-named 'monster'. Besides, there was something inside of him that just believed that the digimon was not a threat to anyone despite the evil imagery that his clothing and facial features gave off. Unfortunately, it was that same conviction that was screaming at him to go back home and he couldn't put his finger on why.  
  
Donald G. Schanke, veteran homicide detective, family man, and average, run-of-the mill human specimen, glanced at his partner for the upteenth time, wondering what was going on inside his head. He'd always pegged Nick as being a tad on the strange side---but today his friend was going for a record in spaced-out driving. Praise God that they were only going as far as the morgue to drop off some evidence. Not too much chance of his illustrous teammate rear ending someone on such a short trip.  
  
Then again..  
  
The balding detective blanched as the caddy narrowly missed sideswiping a nun's Buick, his fingers digging into the caddy's upholstery.  
  
"Nick!"  
  
"Hmm?" The dark blue eyes turned and focused on him.  
  
"Not me---the road! Watch the road! Darn it, Nick!" Schanke berated him. "If you're not going to pay attention to where your steering this land yacht of yours, pull over and let me drive! My kid's big birthday event is this evening and I want to still be in one piece when I cut the cake for all the little munchkins she's invited over."  
  
"Sorry," Nick mumbled, turning his full attention back to his driving. He made an effort to sound interested, flashing his mortal partner a smile. Not that he didn't care for the Schankes---he just had his mind on his own 'munchkin'. "So Jenny's now.. what?"  
  
"Eight," Don replied, only settling back into the passenger seat when it looked like Nick had learned how to drive again.  
  
"Eight, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, and Myra wants me to make it special on account that I missed the last two school events and Parent's Day conferences." He spread his hands out before his face and made a sweeping, circular motion with them. "Big deal, ya know? The works. Not just some cake and ice cream---no-ho---she has decreed that there shalt be streamers and ballooons and all sorts of whatnot. Even wants me to hire a clown to entertain the kids." Schanke groaned the groan of a parent asked to do something he didn't really want to get involved in.  
  
"For heaven's sake, Schanke," Nicholas shook his head in false pity, "that is awful! Men have died hanging pink streamers. Is Myra aware of the risks?"  
  
"Spoken out of the mouth of the childless one. Okay, so I can hang crepe and pump out a few balloons," Don allowed. "Have you any idea how much those stupid kid's clowns charge? Something in their contracts about receiving 'hazard pay' and not responsible for property damage initiated by Acts of Children." He shuddered. "That last part was enough to turn my hair white just thinking about why it had been added in."  
  
"What hair?" Nick grinned, referring to his friend's rapidly retreating scalp line.  
  
"Watch it Goldilocks," Schanke scowled back. He tapped his skull knowingly with an index finger. "Someday you may end up like this, too, you know. Or is Rogaine a secret ingrediant in those drinks of yours that Nat keeps bringing by?"   
  
The 800-year old laughed, "Schankie, if I ever start losing my hair, I promise I'll have it woven into a toupee just for you." The look on his companion's face just made him want to rib his partner more. "C'mon, Schanke...that was a joke. You know? Laugh, clown, laugh?" His eyes lit up with merriment as he gave the steering while a light slap. "Hey, there's your ticket to finacial solvency! You could dress up as Monsieur Bozo yourself," Nick chuckled teasingly. "Even with all those donuts you've been popping as main courses the past couple of nights instead of the diet Myra thinks she has you on, you might even still fit into one of the larger clown costumes---or just use that golfing outfit Jenny and Myra got you for Christmas. Better yet--" De Brabant exclaimed gleefuly, recalling the time Schanke had been trying to look good to their new captain by showing up at work on his day off---"those moose pajamas! Save even more money by not renting. Just get one of those big, poofy orange wigs--"  
  
"Oh, verrrry funny, Nick." Don snapped back defensively, "Har, har. And lay off about those p.j.'s, okay?Just because my pard's Mr. Perfect Physique, he makes jolly with his buddy's little weight problem. Can I help it if I was born with a powdered-sugar gene?"  
  
"I thought it was a 'sweet tooth'?  
  
"That too." Schanke slumped into his seat, eyeing his bulging stomach reproachfully. "Man o' man o' man. I'm cursed."  
  
Nicholas' gaiety dampened at the mention of curses, but he forced a laugh anyway for appearances sake. He should have such a simple curse. One that allowed him to eat solid food without gagging, have kids to throw birthday parties for, or go out for a stroll in the afternoon sunlight without turning into soft little ash flakes. "So now you're blaming genetics, I take it?"  
  
Don's eyes twinkled as he grunted, "Darn straight, pard. It's the parents' fault!" Two seconds later, the twinkle was road kill as dispatch reported an armed robbery in progress not far from where they were. "Aw, crud," Schanke groaned as he reached to respond to the call. "Dispatch, this is 81 Kilo responding to.."  
  
"So much for a short shift," Knight muttered to himself as he turned the caddy into a side street.  
------------------  
  
Joey was grinning as he cornered his prey at the end of the alley. He playfully kicked at some of the debris underfoot as he sauntered closer.  
  
"Heh... Little boy, you didn't really think you could escape, did you?, Martinez leered. "Or are you a little girl? Such lovely long hair... you have me curious now, pocito. Or pocita. Let's see what you're hiding under all that, eh?" Feinting to the right, he threw himself into a tackle, the teenager managing to grab Wizardmon's upper arm. His eyes went wide as his fingers had to crush down on the beige fabric a lot longer than he'd expected until they finally closed around what felt like a hard stick. However, he didn't get too much time to consider that startling discovery before his smaller opponent sent him kareening into the side of a garbage receptacle as if he'd weighed nothing.  
  
Samuel was beginning to get antsy. They needed to skoot before the cops showed up--no doubt the hot dog jerk was already calling; however, he'd spare a moment longer to teach this irritating trash urchin a lesson!  
  
"Marty?" he asked, not terribly concerned whether his underling answered or not. Martinez was ependable after all.  
  
A little more bruised than he had been before, Joey scrambled to his side.  
  
"I'm fine. But that little creep is no going to be! But, mi pocito amigo won't be," the latino snarled as he removed a section of petrified banana peel from his hair.  
  
Samuel smiled oily at their prey. "Okay, hand over your money and maybe we won't rough you up."  
  
Joey gave his own nasty smirk as he ammended, "Much."  
  
The purple and beige-clad interloper within their territory cocked his head as if considering his options, then brought out an even larger wad of bills.  
  
Joey and Samuel's eyes fairly popped out. It looked enough to be at least a few hundred! Maybe over a thousand! Whatever his scene, the kid must pull a good trick to have amassed that much! Or he was a damned good pick pocket.  
  
Neither thought to question why it was that all the bills looked to be fivers.  
  
"Give it over." the leader gestured impatiently at the digimon.  
  
He was not one to be vindictive, but... Well, they had asked for it, hadn't they? Smiling a little sadly behind his cowl, Wizardmon obliged the human's 'request' by lobbing the multi-colored ball towards them, his fingers already working as it reached the half-way point.   
  
Swiftly, colored paper creased and folded together over and over again in sync, their shapes taking on a deliberate pattern. In mid-air the money had been reformed into a flock of what looked like origami hummingbirds with visciously pointed beaks. Silent except for the furious beating of paper wings against air, they descended like a swarm of bees towards the teens.  
  
Joey was the first to retreat as the pecking mass strove to pull on unguarded hair and attacked their bare arms, inflicting shallow paper cuts that stung more than anything else. "I'm outta here!" he shouted back over his shoulder, ducking and runnning out of the alley as if demons were after him.  
  
Samuel, however, stood his ground, swatting angrily at the miniature avians as he stubbornly worked his way towards the digimon. Maybe it was the less-than-average haul this evening, maybe he'd just had a bad day, but he was feeling too pissed to be scared! Soon the floor between the two was littered with crumpled pieces of paper money blowing fitfitally about in the growing breeze that was entering in through the street entrance..  
  
"I don't know who you are, you little creep, but you're trickery is gonna cost you!" Patterson snarled. "See, I've got my own kind of magic act.." A flick of the wrist and a silvery switchblade opened in his hand, "and you've just volunteered to be my assistant!"  
  
Slowly, Wizardmon backed away until he couln't any more. A bright flash went from his hand, temporarily blinding the boy. "You've already hurt me. Now you need to hurry and find your friend," he said calmly.  
  
Samuel's face blinked as the wise-sounding voice covered his own thoughts. "Well, I guess you'll think twice before messing with me now, kid." Half turning, he took a step back. "Better go find---what the heck! What are you trying to pull?!" Whirling, he slashed the knife into the beige jumsuit, freezing when the blade continued on without hitting anything more solid than cloth before it was stopped by the bricks behind his target. The metal made a scraping sound as hit, yet there was no resistance between the cloth barriers!  
  
No way! He had to have hit flesh! But the blade told him differently, even as he moved it within the hole he'd made in the jumpsuit. What was this kid? Anorexic? And why was there a thick, bluish vapor wafting out from around his knife, unaffected by the wind buffing at their clothes?  
  
Patterson heard the low sound of distant thunder. No, not distant---it was coming from... No way!  
  
Jade eyes narrowed to slits just before the teen's hand jerked open, an electric spark causing the blade to fall inside the hole it had wrought while the boy himself was flung away several feet by a blue blast.  
  
God! He'd been struck by lightning! But that wasn't possible...was it? Maybe Marty had been right and the kid was rigged with some sort of stunner device?  
  
Yeah, that was it. Well, he'd just see about thi--  
  
"Hey, down there!"  
  
A flashlight beam was making its way down the alley.  
  
The teenager cursed as he scrambled back to his knees, reaching in vain for his weapon as he considered the possibility of holding the freak hostage while he escaped. But neither knife nor 'freak' was nearby. Even the breeze had died away to an absolute stillness.  
  
Impossible! The alley was a dead end! There was no way someone as small as that kid could have climbed out in so short a time! And he had not ran past. He glanced around again, feeling an icy chill as his right hand fell upon one of the crushed 'birds'. He stared at it, the events of the past few minutes finally starting to sink home. It wasn't possible. All that couldn't have really happened, could it? Sam started to shiver as his hand closed around the bird, mangling it even further as the cop flashed his light on him..  
  
There was something not right about that kid. And he was going to find out what. And then he was going to get his revenge...  
__________________________  



	11. The Witness Did What?!

Note to Readers: I am now the official Faction Leader during the duration of a Forever Knight Mailing List Faction War. This will be going on til likely late August, during which time I will be absolutely swamped.  
I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS FIC! No way! (Wizardmon and Nick would kill me..) But I must leave it for awhile. Believe me, I wish I didn't, I have all kinds of stuff I want to write in it. Darn. Til then, here is Chapter 11. Hopefully, Chapter 12 will be out before August.  
My apologies... I honestly didn't think the War would break out this soon.  
Sincerely, Kyer  
Wizardmon and Nicholas De Brabant nutcase  
----------------------------------------------  
  
  
Part Eleven: The Witness Did What?!  
  
"Freeze, kid!" Detective Schanke warned as he trained his gun on the teen.  
  
"Good job, Skanke, you got him!"  
  
The homicide cop started when his blond partner appeared at the top of the wall, leaping over the edge to drop down behind the perp.  
  
"Geez, Nick, how'd you get around there so fast?"  
  
"With a lot of jogging. Some of us actually excercise," De Brabant quickly explained. "And there was a ladder on the other side."  
  
"Okay." Don sighed, chalking it up to just another one of the stranger-than-thou things about his team mate. How could a guy who suffered allergies up the wazoo and lived on nothing but protein drinks and red wine still be so darn fit? Man, oh man! It wasn't fair. Pulling out some handcuffs, he forced the boy's wrists together, a bit of paper falling out of Patterson's hand as he did so. The teen was shivering, but Don put it down to having been caught in the act of a felony for the first time.  
  
"This s***!"  
  
"Yeah, some nights are just a bitch, aren't they?" Schanke grunted as the cuffs locked. "Well, Sam, you just added assault with a deadly weapon to your normally petty rap sheet. Congratulations on sinking even lower into the gutter."  
  
"Hey, I didn't do nothing. And wait til my lawyer hears about how you jerks used excessive force!" the boy threatened them.  
  
Reaching down to the dropped paper bill near the culprit's feet, Nick picked it up, an evidence bag at the ready. He indicated the denomination mark on one flap to his partner  
  
"Exhibit A"  
  
Both members of 81 Kilo smiled at each other. Patterson had been caught red-handed.  
  
"Yeah, right, Sam---you didn't do a thing. Another page in the Patterson book of fiction," Schanke grunted.  
  
Sam was ready with a suitable retort when his eye caught sight of the evidence bag. He stared at the crumbled bill with a look of horror.  
  
"Keep that thing away from me!"  
  
"What's the matter, Patterson?" Schanke smirked. "Allergic to proof of your crime?"  
  
"It's haunted! Alive!" Sam cursed, eyes wild "The freakin' things were all alive!"  
  
Don looked at the piece of money Nick held. It didn't so much as hiccup.  
  
"Whoa, settle down!" Schanke warned him as Sam tried to twist out of his grasp.  
  
"That little kid is going to be so dead when I get my hands on him!"  
  
Deciding that Patterson must be in some kind of drug-induced delirium, Schanke handed the kid over to a uniform to take into custody, listening to another officer's report while Nick frowned at the fiver he had..  
  
"Hey, Nick, listen to this!" Schanke called back. "Harry says the vendor was attacked by a pair. And that there was a third kid who intervened." He looked about the alleyway, empty except for battered cans and assorted trash. "You know.. Patterson grew up in this area. Why do you think he'd have run in here to a dead end knowing the police were on the way? No doors...or a convenient ladder on this side."  
  
However, Nicholas was only half listening to his team mate jibe. His nose had already picked up another human scent that was not Harry's, Don's or Patterson's. The vampire assumed it was the teen's partner in crime whom he had been cursing about as he left--the accomplice who'd split the scene; yet something else was here. Some odor like... His nose led him to a crumbled money inside the open evidence bag in his hand. Pretending that he was scouting the rest of the ground for more evidence, De Brabant turned his back so Schanke could see as he removed the paper and smoothed it out  
  
A five-dollar bill that smelled of storm clouds?  
  
The law enforcer in him hated to tamper with evidence, but the vampire was motivated by the need to keep up the Code lest another brand of 'policemen' decided to intervene. He hastily stuffed the bill into his jacket while replacing it with one of his own, silently crushing it to a state state similar to the original before sealing the bag. Letting his beast surface, all senses on the alert, the only Undead cop in existence felt himself drawn skyward, instinct telling him that the answer to his question was somewhere above, watching them.  
  
Someone on the roof? Another vampire? Was it Lacroix snooping on him?  
  
"Schanke? Do you think you can handle this yourself? I gotta go check something out."  
  
Don made a face. "Has this 'something' of yours brown hair and a mean streak whenever she gets her hands on both a needle and my finger?" Schanke hurried over to the vampire. "C'mon, Nick, Natalie can wait for the welcome home committee---we gotta talk to the victim." He leaned in closer to add in a low voice, "Did you notice Patterson's eyes back there? That kid was seriously freaked and Harry says Hot Dog Charlie has a mutilated knife to show us."  
  
Frowning, De Brabant stopped scanning the buildings and let himself be led away. There were times it would be so much easier to just admit to his partner that he wasn't human and could sense things the others couldn't! Well...whatever was up there would just have to wait a little longer before he could check it out.  
-----------------------  
  
Nicholas listened with rising dismay as the vendor recounted what had transpired and his gave his description of both Sam Patterson's accomplice and the mysterious kid who'd led them away.  
  
He had just described Wizardmon to a 't'.  
  
The vendor shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know which one had more guts---the youngster for taking those two hoodlums on, or them for chasing after him!"  
  
"Wait a minute," Schanke stifled an uneasy laugh, "you mean to tell us that some Halloween-dressed kid who was less than three and a half feet high went mano o' mano against mid and high school drop outs? And you were worried for the teens?"  
  
Charlie snatched up the seriously bent-out-of-shape knife and placed it in the skeptic's hand. "Yeah..after the 'Witch Kid' did this."  
  
Holding the circular piece of metal up to the street light, Schanke gaped at 'Exhibit B'. 'B' as in bewitched! He swallowed. "No way."  
  
"You gonna tell me what my two eyes saw, detective? Witch Kid pointed at the knife and... Flammo!"  
  
Schanke lifted an amused eyebrow. "Flammo?"  
  
Crossing his arms, Charlie sourly elaborated, "Zap! Zing! Presto Chango. Whatever."  
  
Stuffing the mutilated knife into an evidence bag, Schanke put it in his pocket along with his notepad. "Right. Just one more thing..." he licked his lips, mouth salivating as he eyed the vendor's wares "those chili dogs still hot?"  
---------------------------------  
  
One Charlie's Chili Dog apprehended and awaiting incarceration, Schanke pulled his partner aside.  
  
Nick looked at him askance as his Don bent back the napkin to take a bite of the food, nose wrinkling in disgust at the strong, spicy smell.  
  
"What?" Schanke asked, then looked down at the chili dog. "It's to help settle my stomach. You know these cases that feature mumbo jumbo creep me out. Besides, what Myra doesn't know won't hurt me."  
  
Nicholas just shook his head, snickering quietly at his friend's rationalization. Schanke was definitely living in the moment. Myra was going to kill her husband next time she corraled him unto a scale.  
  
"Well?" Don mumbled around the big bite of hot dog in his mouth after Nick and he had taken a few steps back in the directoin of the alley in silence.  
  
"Well, what?"  
  
"Well, what, he asks" Schanke asked the heavens in a plainitive voice, rolling his eyes. "Hello, anybody at home under that mop of hair? Charlie boy and Patterson's claim! C'mon, Nick, get your mind off Natalie and back on the program! If both the perp and the victim's stories fleshed together any more tightly they'd be Siamese Twins."  
  
Nick thrust both of his hands deep into his duster jacket's pockets and sighed. "I know."  
  
"'And it doesn't peak your interest?" Schanke snorted in disgust. "You know, this 'We're only friends' fairy tale that you two are trying to foist on the rest of--"  
  
"Schanke!" his partner groaned, then decided to surrender to the inevitable. As he'd reassured Lacroix, he'd think of something. He just hadn't thought he'd have to think of it so soon! "Nat has nothing to do with it. I... just think I know the person they saw."  
  
"Me too. I've already sent out word to pick up Joey Martinez." He bit down into the last of his snack.  
  
"I'm not talking about Martinez."  
  
Both of Schanke's eyebrows went up at the hesitant admission; he hurriedly swallowing the remains of the weiner bun in his mouth, choking a bit. Nicholas gave him a solid thump on the back.  
  
"Keep eating too fast like that and your diet really will be the death of you."  
  
Don waved him off as he cleared his throat. "You've pegged the Witch Kid's i.d.?!" he asked incredulously. Well why not, he told himself. Weird partner, has weirder listening tastes what with his obsession with that NightCrawler guy on the radio. Big surprise he'd know about any other weirdos in the city. Heck, Knight was probably a walking Weirdo Directory!  
  
"So what's the kid's name? Is he with a local gang or a loner?"  
  
"He's not a kid. He's... a midget. From another country," Nick answered, the not-quite lie rolling off his tongue. "Guy habitually goes about in his performing personae because that's what he did for a living back in Europe: street performing. Never gives out anything but his stage name of 'Wizardmon'.  
  
Don chuckled. "Wizardmon, huh? Cute. So we put out another APB on this street performing character, get his statement, and I can ask him to come to Jenny's party," he joked, then reconsidered. "Actually, that might not be a bad idea..."  
  
"Uh..Schanke? Trust me, it is not a good idea."  
  
"Why?" Don frowned. "He's not one of those adult type--"  
  
"No!" Nicholas shook his head, trying to stem his rising irritation. It wasn't Schanke's fault he had a bone to pick with a certain digimon who hadn't had the sense to stay put! "But he's really kind of shy and not used to speaking English yet."  
  
"Shy? A performer whose shy?"  
  
"You'd be surprised at how many performers are as uncomfortable with direct contact with people as they are at ease 'walking the boards.' When you're on stage, its like another world." Quite literally in Wizardmon's case now that the cat was out of the bag and he'd have to 'perform' as a human being for however long he was stuck here, Nicholas thought. He'd have to find the little alien fast and clue him in on his 'life story' before any of his coworker's found him beforehand. But first he'd have to ditch his partner.  
  
Don didn't bother to question 'Knight' on his knowledge of the stage's denizens as much as he'd have loved to start his partner on the third degree. He'd learned fast that the younger man (as far as the Polish man knew) was normally clam-mouthed about his past and personal life. "Okay, so he's shy," the senior detective shrugged, "I'll tell the kids not to mob him."  
  
Scowling, De Brabant decided he'd better stop this train before it gathered any more steam in his partner's mind and caused a wreck he'd have to clean up.  
  
"Schanke, would you just forget it? His character is a bit too... unorthodox for kids."  
  
"As in?"  
  
"You heard Patterson and Charlie. His character is a tad on the scary side."  
  
Schanke slowly blew out his breath. "Man, oh, man---it's obvious you haven't been around children much, pard. Or perused a toy store lately. Kids love fantasy--the weirder the better. Monster get-up? No problemo. Now, being trapped with fifteen to twenty bored tykes and an unamused spouse? That is scary!" He glanced up and down the street. " So.. where does this Wizardmon hang out when he's not out performing or protecting Charlie's Chili Dog Stand?"  
  
"I tell you what," Nicholas said, glancing around as if hunting for something, "You take care of things on this end, and I'll bring him in."  
  
"Okay, I'll...ho, no--just a dang minute--Nick, you are not sticking me with the paperwork!" Schanke turned around to find that he was standing alone. "Nick? Man o' man--he's done it to me again! How does he do that?" Schanke groused. "Damn. Cohen is going to blow a gasket if he doesn't show up." He sighed fatalistically. "Maybe I should just hire Knight to do disappearing tricks."  
  
Still mumbling about his so-called 'partner', he headed over to where the uniforms were gathered discussing the merits of ketchup over mustard on weiners. Taking a deep, satisfying wiff of the air, Donald asked aloud, "You guys want to talk weiners with an expert?..."  
  
Shaking his head in amusement as he listened to his friend pontificate about hot dogs, Nicholas retreated to an even more isolated spot and effortlessly lifted up into the night sky, a predator in flight.  
  
He had a digimon to hunt down.  
_________________________ 


	12. Can I Call You Friend?

Part Twelve: Can I Call You Friend?  
  
If there was one thing Nicholas de Brabant truly loved about being a vampire it was the ability to fly. Absolutely nothing he had ever experienced during his long life could compare with the sense of total freedom that came with escaping the Earth's gravity and soaring between the clouds. Some of his favorite early memories were of playing 'tag' with his vampire sister above the countryside around Paris following a successful hunt with their master. After a good rain, you could smell everything for kilometers around---which was why, come to think of it, at such times the young fledgling and his lover/temptress had flown away from the city! Public sanitation was still crude back then!  
  
Just now, however, Nicholas had setttled for a horizontal 'hover' mode, the night breeze tickling his face with his own hair as he scanned the nearby rooftops for signs of a purple and beige clad figure. He expanded his senses to their utmost.  
  
Nothing but the ordinary sights and sounds of a modern city. As far as his eyes and ears could tell, there was no digital monster running loose on the streets of Toronto.  
  
And yet his instincts were screaming that the alien was here, somewhere, above the ground level. What was really strange was that he could smell the little digimon so strongly. Either he was very close or it was more likely to rain tonight than the sky was currently letting on.  
  
When he suddenly heard the object of his search coming from directly above him, it was most unexpected.  
  
"Why did you attempt to lock me up?"  
  
"Gaah!"  
  
Whipping his body around so that he was facing heavenwards instead of at the city below, Nicholas nearly slapped the wizard with an arm by pure accident, missing only by virtue that the digimon retreated upwards just in time to avoid the blow. Jade and amber eyes expressed mutual shock as they searched each other's face---the native's elongated eyeteeth illuminated by the moonlight, the end of the alien's staff taking on a bluish glow..  
  
The digimon suppressed a groan. His question had been an innocent inquiry, but the vampire had turned belligerent! How could he have been so wrong about this one? Or rather, why did he have to be so right about vampires in general? Why did everyone turn on him?!  
  
**Not Gatomon. She could not help it**  
  
No, for a long time she couldn't get free of Myotismon's spell. Yet he had not abandoned her, would not have even if she had never remembered him again. For her, he must not let this latest betrayal poison his vow not to return to bitterness.  
  
But that didn't mean he wouldn't take precautions.  
  
Calling upon the power of sky magic, Wizardmon floated himself up yet another meter higher than he had been. "I don't wish to fight," the digimon declared the other in a louder, firmer voice, "Please don't make me fight you, but know that I will if you force me to it." He held his staff firmly in both hands, the flaming-egg shaped ornament towards the vampire. It glowed in warning for the other to keep the distance between them.  
  
The vampire continued to stare up at him.  
  
"You're flying!" De Brabant yelped in an accusing tone, too stunned by the sight of the wizard suspended in mid air to register what the digimon had said.  
  
Frowning behind his cowl, Wizardmon pondered the words; but though he understood the statement itself, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why it had been spoken. It was quite obvious he was flying. What was the vampire upset about that for? Giving up trying to comprehend the nature of the problem, he simply acknowledged the fact and waited for enlightenment. "Yes."  
  
"Why did you not tell me you could fly?!" Nicholas downright growled around his fangs, making the wizard flinch in reaction.  
  
Wizardmon had never liked being around discord and preferred to leave all but the most necessary of fighting to the digimon Vaccine caste. Though he could fight, he was no warrior. In fact, Gatomon had been the only one he had ever truly battled for of his free will. There were times---rare and far between, true---but, still, moments when he almost wished the animal digimon had not shown him the meaning of caring for others. Apathy had made life so much simpler.  
  
And dull. He had to at least try to resolve this nonviolently. He owed the RealWorlder, vampire or not. But most of all, he owed Gatomon an unending debt And the cat Vaccine would not want him to harm another without good reason.  
  
Silently, Wizardmon willed the energy he'd forwarded to his staff to redirect itself back into his hands, lowering the now drained implement to indicate that he wished for a truce.  
  
"I didn't know I should have," he said, trying to be reasonabe. "Please, Nick, do not become angry. There is no need for us to fight. Whatever your motives were, you did give me aid and I will always be grateful for that. Let us go our own ways in peace."  
  
The vampire blinked at him--the amber darkening back to blue, "What the heck are you talking about? Who says I want to fight you?"  
  
*Confusion tinged with anger*  
  
"You tried to lock me up," Wizardmon pointed out. "Just now you were searching for me and when you found me you struck out. Is my assessment of your intentions towards me in error?"  
  
Nicholas stared at him, mouth open. He shut it with an audible snap. Then opened it again as the words exploded forth as if of their own accord.  
  
*Anger*  
  
"Darn right, it's in error! For crying out loud,Wizardmon, I locked you in for your own safety! And of course I was looking for you---for the same reason! As for trying to hit you---I wasn't trying to do anything but turn around. You startled the heck out of me is all! Don't do that again! And furthermore,"--he pointed angirly at the digimon--"you shouldn't be up here! What if someone sees you? How will I explain that?!"  
  
"See me?" The Data's mild voice was beginning to show his own, rising irritation. Here he was, trying to leave on a better footing and Nick was being such a.. a.. a vampire! "We are doing the same thing---watching others without being seen---or did you indeed know I was here before I spoke up? At least explain why something natural to me, is bad for me to do---yet perfectly all right for you! If you do not tell me, Nick, I can not know and make correction on my supposed 'mistake'." Unconsciously, his hands started glowing again.  
  
"Don't be sarcastic," the Toronton growled. "I never said flying was bad--I'm saying..."  
  
Nicholas closed his eyes and counted to ten. In both English and the extinct form of his childhood Brabantian tongue. Slowly, his fangs retracted back into his upper jaw.  
  
*Frustration*  
  
Damn! He had to get a grip on his temper. The vampire swallowed his ire long enough to notice the glow of the digimon's hands; and from there the gash in Wizardmon's jumper about where De Brabant judged was just below where a left kidney would be---if the digimon was human. "What..?" Floating over, he ran a finger along the tattered pieces of the ripped cloth.  
  
*Concern and.. fear?*  
  
Wizardmon let him do so, but his grip on his staff tightened just in case.  
  
Cold blood rushed to De Brabant's face. He'd forgotten that Patterson had admitted to stabbing the 'witness' with a serrated pocket knife and here he was berating the digimon instead of helping bind any wounds.  
  
"Is it bad?" he asked quietly. "Natalie keeps a medical kit in my car...it will take me a minu--"  
  
The Data blinked dumbfoundedly at him. Bios if the vampire wasn't radiating true concern for him again! Not knowing what to think, he looked down at his clothing. As if noticing his hands and the rip for the first time, Wizardmon brought his right thumb and forefinger together. The light faded from around both gloves except for in the forefinger as he traced it over the edges of the rip---which reknitted itself as quickly as a vampire's flesh.  
  
Nicholas looked chagrined. "I..uh.. meant you, not your clothing."  
  
"Ah. You mean by this?" Wizardmon produced Patterson's pocket knife by unzipping a pocket located at his ribcage and reaching inside the dark gape that was produced. He then zipped it closed again. As with the jumpsuit, itself, the sharp implement was curiously unmarked by blood. "I am unharmed by it." He gave the knife to the detective who mechanically put it in an evidence bag and placed it in his own pocket.  
  
The vampire let out a breath, his fears for the digimon's immediate well being quickly joining wherever his temper had gone to. "What are you doing out here anyway? I thought we agreed for you were to stay in the loft?"  
  
"No," Wizardmon gently corrected, relaxing his own stance now that hostilities seemed less and less likely. "You asked me to stay there. We only agreed that I watch some of your television. Which I did. It was enjoyable." The digimon's expessive eyes turned bewildered as he recalled what the strange box had showed him.. "Except.. can you tell me, Nick, what is deodorant and why it is vital to have? Also many other things: 'The Biggest Hits From The Seventies', Chi-Chi pets, A Heartburn Hotel, and the Lottery? Are there truly so many things one must have to survive here? I tried my best to understand what the television was saying about them, but I must admit I failed." His ears drooped a little at this admission of his vast ignorance. In Digital World, he considered himself to be fairly knowledgeable having traveled so extensively on both File Island and the continent of Server. This 'Earth' place was already making him feel like a reformatted newborn straight from an egg!  
  
Nick laughed. "No advertisers on Digital World, I take it? Sounds like a nice vacation spot."  
  
"Advertisers? Vacation?"  
  
*Oh, boy.*  
  
Feeling a rare headache coming on, the vampire rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Nothing. Look, I'm sorry I blew up at you--but I was really worried. I don't want you to get hurt."  
  
"I know."  
  
"What do you mean, you... oh." De Brabant sighed, remembering what Wizardmon had confided about being able to read emotions and thoughts. "Was my locking you in the only reason you decided to leave?"  
  
"No." The digimon looked away, but said no more.  
  
*Slight irritation*  
  
"I can't read your mind, Wizardmon."  
  
Nicholas indicated a spot above the now empty alley where they could land without being seen and together they flew down towards it.  
  
"Okay, spill," De Brabant, said after they had settled onto a rooftop What was bothering you so much you couldn't wait til I came back?" He tensed, thinking of one possibility. "Or did Lacroix decide to pay you another visit?"  
  
"No, no one came..." Wizardmon studied the tiny rocks embedded in the roofing material they stood on. Bios.. this was embarrassing. Never before had he misjudged another's character so many times in one day! What was wrong with him? Where was his objectivity? Why did he feel so offbalanced?  
  
"Do you remember what I told you about Myotismon?"  
  
Nicholas folded his arms. "I'd imagine that character would be rather hard for anyone to forget even if only half of what you said was true. What has your enemy to do with leaving me.. um.. the loft, though?"  
  
"I told you that Myotismon is.. or hopefully by now, was if Gatomon succeeded in fulfilling her destiny.. an Ultimate-level digimon of the Virus caste. Did I mention his classification?"  
  
Thinking back to their conversation in the loft, Nick shook his head. "No. You didn't."  
  
"He's a vampire," Wizardmon said quietly, unconsciously reaching up to rub at the spot the Virus had repeatedly drank from. "His favorite way to feed was to terrorize someone before biting and lapping the blood. Fear, he claimed, enhanced the flavor.."  
---------------------  
  
This is NOT where I wanted to cut this off, but I thought someone might appreciate a bit more of the story while there's a lull in the fkwar preps. --Kyer  



	13. Dare I Risk This?

See? I'm still writing this. Just less time to do so.  
___________________________________________  
  
Part Fourteen: Dare I Risk This?  
  
Listening to the story, De Brabant closed his eyes, expression grim. It was true with his kind of vampire as well that a victim's emotion augmented the enjoyment of a meal. For a while, he had even kept women in a cavern below his ancestral castle as food, slowly draining each one. At the time, he had considered it a necessity in order to take care of his mortal sister's son. Then, he hadn't thought twice about the women themselves. Now he wished he could go back in time and erase each death--each cry of terror and unwanted passion. Small wonder that Wizardmon felt uncomfortable around him if his digital counterpart had committed the same attrocities upon the wizard and this feline he cared so deeply for.  
  
Story finished, Nicholas sat down heavily on the roof, understanding softening his voice to a near whisper. "I see... When you found out about my being a vampire as well.."  
  
The digimon nodded, keeping his eyes averted as he explained his reasoning. He was feeling a bit abashed again. However, this jumping from uncertainty to uncertainty was getting on his nerves! If only Nick was more clearly Vaccine or Viral! But, no.. he was..  
  
Data-ish.  
  
Wizardmon almost winced at the thought. Was he being hypocritical? Didn't he yet have difficulty in changing his old ways despite his vows? It was still so hard to truly trust someone else. To let them get close.  
  
"I did not know what to do. Are you as you seem? Or are you masking yourself from me as I was concealing my presence from you up there?" he pointed with his staff to where they had hovered. "If you are an enemy, then you are a danger to me. If a friend, then I am a danger to you. Going my own way seemed the best thing to do for us both. Except I ran into a problem with the native people and had to reveal myself to protect another." He sighed with resignation. "So much of your world is confusing to me---including yourself. And I have failed to keep my uniqueness unknown to others as you suggested and am now hunted as was warned." The tip of the staff swung around to indicate where several uniformed cops were looking in store windows and dark corners, flashlight beams darting from place to place. "They search for me, don't they, those blue ones? Are they your Enforcers that Lacroix spoke of? Shall I give myself up to them for deletion as it is obvious that I am unable to fit into your world?"  
  
Nicholas shook his head. "If those had been my kind, we'd likely both be fighting for our lives right now."  
  
The vampire frowned, thinking about how his father would react to the news of his death should that happen. Would he go on a rampage and take it out on his mortal friends? Should he just move on like LaCroix said for their own protection? He knew he was hardly a safe person to know---both directly and indirectly. And yet Nicholas felt that to leave them would be to condemn himself to a darkness of the soul as well as the night, for humanity was surely of the Light--the way back to his salvation. He was lost to the Beast without their brightness to illuminate his path.  
  
Or was his presence--his Beast's Darkness---merely threatening to snuff out the Light around him, flame by individual flame?  
  
Decisions, choices, so much at stake--literally--if he chose wrong!  
  
Ah, but here he was again: choosing the wrong time and place to wallow in such thoughts.  
  
Bad habit.  
  
De Brabant forced his mind to center again on their immediate surroundings.  
  
"Don't worry, they're only human policemen," the Toronton explained to his companion. "Right now you're not wanted for being a monster, but for witnessing a crime." He let out a breath and swept out a hand to indicate the twinkling lights of the city. "You're right---the world can be a very bewildering place to find yourself a stranger in as it is. Add to that the twilight existence of my kin and its no wonder you wanted to leave." Nicholas looked over at the digimon. "I'll understand if you don't want to, but if you're still willing to trust me enough, I'd like to help you as I can. Even explain all that stuff you saw on the television." He gave a friendly grin. "Or try to anyway. I don't know if anyone in their right mind can truly explain the fascination with Chi Chi pets or grown men using colored paint to cover their bald spots."  
  
"Those were exceptionally odd," Wizardmon frowned as he recalled the infomercial. "What if it rained and the 'hair' ran down his back?" He reached back to bring the tied end of his own mane to his eyes. "Would it be considered a ponytail?"  
  
Nicholas laughed at that mental image; a warm, inviting sound. The digimon felt himself relax instead of tense up as he would have done at such a sudden exclamation by his own world's vampires. The laugh was not the egotistical 'superior' one of Myotismon, or the sinister cackling of Demidevimon, but a pure expression of enjoyment.  
  
It was that good-natured laugh that cemented his decision. He stood ramrod straight as if addressing a commander.   
  
"I will follow your direction, Nick," Wizardmon's eyes smiled back even though his mouth remained hidden. What should I do?"  
  
"Ah.." De Brabant cleared his throat. "Well, right now, we'll have to 'give you up' and go to the precinct. Too many people gave an accurate description of your appearance so there's no sense in trying to hide you anymore. But we still need a believable way to explain your looks and time being short, I've thought up an admittedly wild-sounding cover story for you." He smirked, "Sometimes showing one side of the truth works better than an outright lie." He looked looked critically at his companion, figuring how best to explain the digimon's appearance beyond what he had already said to Schanke. This was really going to stretch his powers of persuasion! "Well, a few of the details still need work; however.. listen up--"  
  
Puzzled by the directive but willing, the tips of the digimon's pale ears popped forward and tilted themselves heavenwards. Hissing, Nick rather pointedly used the palms of both hands to flatten them back under the dark gold hair.  
  
"For goodness sake---keep those ears of yours under wraps! Those are one of the things I haven't yet fig.." His mouth twisted into a lopsided smile as he felt the inhuman ears against his palms and he gave a chuckle. Of course! Toronto was an eclectic city: many people came to live her from all over the globe. "On second thought.. Here's your new identity. You're not only 'Wizardmon', an immigrant midget, you're originally from... Scandinavia.. where you performed magic tricks for public entertainment You've adopted the character of a mute troll as your alias." At Wizardmon's quizzical expression (man, he was getting to know how to read those eyes pretty good!), Nicholas gave a brief description of trolls and their importance in Norwegian folk culture.  
  
The jade eyes squinted worriedly. "But I am plainly Sky powered, not Underground as these troll digimon of yours," Wizardmon reminded him.  
  
"I doubt anybody here will be able to tell the difference," Nicholas said dryly. "And please don't call people or animals 'digimon'. Humans won't know what you are referring to and we don't want to have to get into long explanations, okay? No sense complicating things even more."  
  
"Yes, Nick."  
  
"That's another thing. Being mute means you don't talk around others, so keep quiet unless we are alone like we are now. Use body language instead. I'll say that we know each other well, that you only feel comfortable dealing with me. As the old saying goes, the less you open your mouth, the less likely you are to put your foot in it!"  
  
Wizardmon lifted one of his booted feet a little, his brow furrowed in thought. He looked around to check that they were still alone before asking, "Does that sort of contortion happen a lot to humans?"  
  
"Unfortunately, yes. And to overly hasty vampires as well," Nicholas grimaced.  
  
"Then I will refrain from asking anything and be as 'mute' as you say, though I do not see how I will learn very fast by listening only and not being able to ask questions of others."  
  
Giving the wizard a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Nicholas grinned. "Once I teach you to read books and websites, you'll have more information than you'll know what to do with." (By gum, Lacroix could just go and choke on his dire warnings---this was going to work!) "Tonight, you were on your way back from a potential magic gig when you stopped at the vendor's to get something to eat. Any questions about the job itself I can routed through my friend, Aristotle." He rubbed his chin as he thought of what else the digimon would be needing. "You need a fake document trail in case anyone decides to check. And I'll need to talk to Merlin about getting you proper identity papers too."  
  
Blue eyes became puzzled as he took out the crinkled bill he'd found in the alley. "But speaking of the vendor and that 'problem' you ran into... where did you come by so much Canadian money?" He showed the money to Wizardmon.  
  
Wizardmon silently leaned over and held out his outstreched hands to the alley he'd led the humans to. A yellow glow surrounded them. From the alley floor, trash suddenly shifted as dozens of smashed paper figures leapt up into the air to gather about the gloves. It looked like the wizard was holding a glowing sphere of large fireflies, but De Brabant noted that each 'fly' seemed to be made from what looked like five-dollar denominations. Curious, he plucked one from out of the swarm and smoothed it out. The bill appeared to be as the genuine article except for one thing. Frowning, he pulled out another. As before, it sported the identical serial numbers to the one he had found earlier. Not to mention the fact that both were gradually faded into nothingness before his very eyes. So were all the others.  
  
It was a good thing he was already acquainted with the supernatural or Patterson and Charlie wouldn't be the only ones seriously spooked by all of this.  
  
"Wizardmon," he said gravely, "I don't know how you did it, but you can't just make your own money. It's called counterfeiting and its a felony---an evil act," he clarified before the Data could ask. Nicholas gave the digimon a very stern look. "Promise me this will not happen again?"  
  
The wizard's eyes widened. "I am truly sorry, Nick," he replied humbly, chastened and mortified that he, despite his vows, he had done somthing 'viral'. "I.. was only hungry."  
  
The vampire sighed. He could hardly rebuke the guy for needing to eat---especially when he had left him with no food in the loft. Wizardmon didn't even know what money was, let alone the laws that governed trading with it. A cloud of melancholy settled over the vampire. Merde! No wonder none of his surviving fledglings wanted anything to do with him! Never mind Lacroix's breathing down their necks---he, himself, was a detriment to their survival. If someday he ever realized his dream of becoming human again, would his mortal children fare any better? Was he a lousy vampire parent or just a lousy parent in general? The question made him uneasy. Here he was turned eight centuries, and to have to admit that LaCroix might be right about his being too immature to be left on his own?  
  
Nasty thought, that. How his master would crow over him; twist his admission and use it to bind him to his side for centuries more. Not acceptable.  
  
*..be easier to step into the sunlight..*  
  
"Yeah... um..well, I guess that was my fault for not sending for some groceries for you." Nicholas conceded guiltily. "Can you forgive me?"  
  
*Remorse*  
  
There was that uncomfortable feeling surrounding him again, Wizardmon thought as he caught snatches of the vampire's thoughts amidst the feelings.  
  
This vampire held such strong regret and sadness! The Data felt bad for him. He wanted... Nick to feel better. Bios---he needed him to feel better. Why was that? Why was he concerned about this one's welfare despite all his doubts and fears?  
  
Because it was becoming crystal clear to him that he was somehow tied to the vampire. The unbalanced feeling. The draw to stay close by. He'd felt something the like before--he'd just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself.  
  
Gatomon.  
  
This was akin to the way he felt around the Champion when she'd first thrown him for a loop by not demanding payment for helping him:  
  
*I'm sorry. I don't have anything for you.*  
*I don't want anything.*  
  
She'd insisted that many others felt the same way about giving without receiving something in return, but he had never quite brought himself to believe that. She was just naive about the ways and workings of the world, he'd told himself. His experiences with such digimon as Devimon, Etemon, the Gazimon and so many others showed how selfish digimon really were. It was easier to believe that the cat was simply different. More special than any other and that was why she had saved his life. So he had gone on as before---only with the exception of allowing Gatomon within his personal sphere as he devoted to her the only thing he did have to give: himself. And hadn't that belief been born out when they'd discovered she was the the digimon of the much sought after eighth Destined child?  
  
Proof to her friend that Gatomon was kinder because she was created to be so by the System in order to save Digital World.   
  
But now?  
  
It seemed she might have been right. There were others who would accept him as he was; who thought nothing of giving without demanding recompense. He'd just somehow managed to miss all but Gatomon on his travels.  
  
Wizardmon nodded solemnly, "Yes, Nick. I will forgive you if.." No. No more 'ifs'. "I do forgive you. Will you forgive me and..?" He hesitated, suddenly nervous. Since escaping the clutchs of his master he'd dared to do what he was contemplating with only Gatomon. She had enriched his life tremendously---even if helping her had caused his deletion by Myotismon. Was lightning striking twice in his life? Or was he deluding himself? Who wanted to befriend a 'glitch'?  
  
*You must be very lonely to say something like that.*  
  
He hadn't acknowledged her insightful statement back then, but Gatomon had been correct in saying that. He'd been lonely for such a long time that it had become second nature to keep others at arms length. Push them away before they could do the pushing--or try to use him for their own ends.  
  
'Bios! I'm procrastinating. I'm actually afraid that he will say no.'  
  
The wizard swallowed thickly, mouth dry. If he was going to do this he'd better do it before he passed out and wouldn't that make a lovely impression on Nick: Hey, all these digimon ever do is faint!  
  
"Wizardmon?" De Brabant asked worriedly. "Are you sure that knife didn't damage you? You look kind of pale. Not, mind, that I can easily tell what passes for normal for you.."  
  
The digimon gulped, sweating. "Can I--? I mean--I would like to.. call you.." he took a deep breath before telefocusing the last word aloud, "friend."  
  
"Friend?" the vampire repeated in surprise, not having expected that.  
  
'Here it comes--' Wizardmon tensed up, preparing himelf for the ridicule. 'Wizardmon, you are an idiot!'  
  
"Friend.." Nicholas started to grin, then sensed that this was not just a simple request for comaradarie, but something much more meaningful to the digimon. Was the wizard actually trembling? He looked like he expected to receive a blow to the gut!  
  
Maybe he did.  
  
De Brabant thought back to his own reservations about starting new relationships. Vampires didn't form many ties beyond their own kind. It just wasn't very feasible what with the need to uphold the Code and the Beast's desire to dine on the mortal. Even he, who desired to become a man, had to be careful. And then there were the other, family considerations beyond the law and his own nature.  
  
Specificaly, Lacoix.  
  
Dared he accept another friendship? Most ended in disaster or regret either because they were killed or he simply outlived them all. The Ancient would not be happy, but then, his father was already displeased and Wizardmon could handle LaCroix better than a mortal could.  
  
"Friend. I can't think of a better nickname I'd rather have," he solemnly thought aloud. "It would be an honor to have you as my friend." He extended his hand to the Data.  
  
Wizardmon stared at the hand for a moment. The vampire's appendage was not poised to strike nor did it hold some instrument of pain. His mouth wasn't fixed in a mocking leer. He wasn't thinking on using his power for personal gain or betraying him to Evil.  
  
No.. this Earther cared about him because of who he was and not what he was.  
  
And more amazing..  
  
He, himself, truly cared about the other's well being. And not for Gatomon's sake only as he had been concerned about the Digi-Destined humans and their chosen digimon; nor because Nick could be useful to himself or to her in any way that would help save the digicat.  
  
Not even because he felt Gatomon would wish it.  
  
But because he truly, honestly, within his own heart---was fond of this vampire!  
  
Under the cowl, the digimon's smile was huge as a great swelling of warmth spread through him. By the System--- He'd done it! He'd actually come to care for a second being in a totally unselfish way! Gatomon would be so proud of him!  
  
Laughing, he took hold of the offered hand and pumped it vigorously. "Friend!"  
  
He had two friends! Two!  
  
From a distance, fiery eyes watched the pair happily cling to one another in mutual happiness.  
  
This would not do at all.  
__________________________________ 


	14. Nothing Abnormal Here. Really.

Part Fifteen: Nothing Abnormal Here. Really.  
  
Less than a minute later, they were back down on the ground, Nicholas offering more advice as they headed for his car.  
  
"Don't swivel your ears around--though it's okay to wiggle them a little. Some humans can do that. But always keep your mouth covered, no matter what. That's the other thing I can't think of an explanation for." He opened the caddy's passenger door. "Just nod at appropriate points while I feed this bull to my co-workers."  
  
"You are going to feed your friends another creature?!" Wizardmon exclaimed in horror.  
  
The Medieval-born Belgian stifled a laugh. "It's just an Earth saying. 'Feeding them 'bull' means I'm going to be telling some whopping big lies."  
  
Whew! Frankly, had no desire to watch one being consume another. He'd seen it much too often already and it sickened him though he'd always been careful to hide his revulsion from other digimon. Myotismon would have kicked him out of his army---making it harder to keep a protective eye on Gatomon. And his former master? He didn't even want to go there.  
  
"Don't worry...I pull off whoppers all the time," the detective assured him. "Except with vampires and Nat..." he grumbled to himself. "C'mon, hop in. Time to go get this over with---the darkness is almost half over."  
  
He felt a tug on his pants leg. Wizardmon looking up at him with his innocent eyes.  
  
"Will this 'precinct' we are going to have chili dogs?"  
  
Nicholas blinked. "Chili dogs? The vendor said you stuffed your gut back there. And you're all ready to eat again?"  
  
"Magic is stored energy expelled," the wizard explained. "The more I use, the more I need to consume to continue expelling it." And to protect himself and Charlie without injuring the other humans, he'd had to use a lot of energy! Oh, he wasn't depleted like before, but he was definitely heavier.  
  
"E=MC squared." De Brabant sighed, scratching the back of his head as he considered Wizardmon's request. More magic might very well just mean more trouble! "Then eating so much is probably not a good idea." He sighed as the little digimon continued to plead with those huge eyes of his. Now he knew why Natalie complained when he threw his own 'puppy dog' act. It was a darn effective maneuver!  
  
One of the uniforms who had stayed behind while Charlie packed up looked over in their direction. Nick waved that he had everything under control. The officer nodded and went on his way.  
  
Magic. A dangerous two-edged sword, De Brabant decided. And yet... his 'sword' was the digimon's only defense against creeps like Patterson and Martinez. Bitter gall it might be, but it would be foolish indeed to believe that he could defend Wizardmon 24-7 against those that wanted to harm him either for his strangeness or seeming youth. Even an 800-year old knight raised up with the stories of chivalry had to be realistic about what he could and could not achieve.  
  
"Okay... if Schanke and the others haven't totally cleaned Charlie out by now, I'll go spring for some hot dogs." He waited while Wizardmon half climbed, half levitated onto the passenger seat before closing the door, desperately trying not to laugh. Sitting in his giant of a car with legs too short to touch the floorboard, the Data looked like a little kid who was nervous and excited about his first car trip for all that his field of view was confined to the car's interior! Grinning, he took a step in the direction where Charlie was getting ready to leave for home. "Just don't get any of the condiments on the caddy's upholstery while you're feeding." He stopped suddenly and turned back to the digimon.  
  
"You are aware that hot dogs are made from animals?"  
  
Wizardmon's large eyes got even larger as what could be seen of his skin changed from blue-gray to green-gray.  
  
"They are?" he fairly squeaked.  
  
'Oh boy,' Nicholas thought. 'I'm a vampire. And I've got a vegetarian digital monster for a friend!'  
  
Turning to make for the driver's side, Nick got in and started the engine.  
  
"Er.. How about I get you some Chinese take-out instead?"  
____________________________   
  
The bull-pen ceased its activity within moments after he ushered the digimon inside. Both officers and accused staring in astonishment at what was hands-down the strangest-looking individual in the building---even at that hour of a Friday night.  
  
Glaring at his coworkers as he protectively guided Wizardmon to his desk, Nick asked pointedly of the room at large, "Doesn't everyone have something better to do?"  
  
A veteran from Vice Squad cleared his throat. "Not really. No." All around, heads nodded in agreement at that assessment. Even Schanke, caught red-handed with a box of donuts in his hands and a raspberry jelly half-way to his lips was stunned---and he had had advanced warning of what to expect.  
  
Maybe this had not been the best idea he'd ever had...  
  
Inside her office, a lady of Japanese descent noticed the unusual quiet outside the typically noisy bullpen and walked out. Seeing that that everyone's attention appeared to be riveted towards Knight's workstation, she turned in that direction intent on finding out just what was going on. Or, more to the point, not going on! To her credit, the captain's jaw only dropped a fraction as she looked down at the outlandish figure standing meekly besides her star employee.  
  
"Care to explain who this is, Detective Knight?"  
  
Sink or Swim.  
  
Shoving aside some papers on his desk and helping Wizardmon up so that the digimon could stand on its surface and be more eye-to-eye with everyone else, Nick coughed a little self consciously. "Um.. Cap, I'd like you to meet the witness at the hot dog robbery and a personal acquaintance of mine. This is Wizardmon. Wizardmon, this is my supervisor, Captain Amanda Cohen."  
  
Amanda flinched as the unusual person on Knight's desk executed a tight spin. He finished it with a low bow from the waist, coming up again with a bouquet of star-shaped flowers which were wordlessly presented to her.  
  
Oh, great. A magician. She'd never much cared for the art of fakirs.  
  
"Hot dog robber?" Amanda asked, trying to recall which of the many new and outstanding cases her detective was referring to.  
  
"Samuel Patterson and Joey Martinez tried an armed robbery against Charlie Barnes. Wizardmon saw it all, and drew them away from the vendor before Barnes could get hurt. He managed to subdue Patterson, but we are still looking for Martinez."  
  
Cohen grimaced a bit at the narrative. Wonderful. A magician who was also a vigilante. Well, not in her jurisdiction!  
  
Seeing that she was still being offered the bouquet, Cohen rather stiffly accepted the gift, eyes turning to Nick as she mumbled a polite thanks before reading him the riot act. However, the odd man was apparently not finished as he proceeded to pilfer some of the contents of Schanke's box before Don could protest. Brown gloves expertly juggled some of the donuts, every once in a while letting one drop behind his cowl from whence the sugary ringlet never reappeared. Eventually all three met the same fate much to Schanke's dismay and the amusement of the gathered crowd. Amanda had to hide a grin. Although she respected the detective's abilities, the man himself often rubbed her the wrong way. Seeing the look on Knight's partner's face as he mourned over the remaining crumbs in the bakery carton was priceless.  
  
"Hey, Schanke!" Officer Williams cried out in jest, "Maybe Myra sent him over to help you with your diet!"  
  
"What? Is everyone a comedian today?" the pouting detective asked the air.  
  
"Er..." taking his captain a little aside as Wizardmon continued to 'wow' his coworkers, Nick lowered his voice for her ears only. "As you can see, my vertically-challenged friend's a practicing street magician who's taken a vow never to speak in public. He is, however, willing to give me his statement in private."  
  
"You're kidding."  
  
Nicholas hurriedly related the cover story while maintaining his best poker face, mentally crossing his fingers that his captain would accept the tale he was spinning. If she didn't, he honestly didn't know what he'd do other than hypnotize her, and despite Wizardmon's distraction, there were too many people around to do it safely. Besides, her belief in the story would be a gauge as to how other humans would accept it.  
  
"Don't Scandinavian trolls have big red noses?" she asked, unconsciously wrinkling her own. Or is that why he's hiding most of his face like some sort of bandit?  
  
"Uh.. He's an air troll. Only earthen trolls have the big noses," Nicholas lied as he tried not to sweat. Cohen was not the easiest person to fool, being a natural skeptic. And her observation on the reason for Wizardmon's face was a little bit too close for comfort!. "They're considered rare among the troll population and a sight more better mannered." De Brabant could only pray that she did not decide to research his bit of fabricating on her computer as soon as his back was turned.  
  
Having listened to Nick's explanation, Cohen went back to confront the 'Norwegian Sky Troll'.  
  
"That's a pretty impressive... troll costume you have there, Mr. Wizardmon."  
  
Nick is anxious...this human does not trust me, the Data thought as he read her. What would convince her that he was safe to have around? She was as wary of potential danger as he.  
  
In answer, Wizardmon bowed again, this time doffing his hat before coming back up. A small cloud of silver sparkles rose into the air like a fountain, descending again as pearlescent snowflakes to fall neatly into the hat. Upending his headgear, nothing came out, but seconds later a mild flower scent filled the room. Again he stood quietly accepting the praise as his audience clapped and called for more.  
  
"Well, it is his livelihood, Cap." Nicholas smiled in what he hoped looked like a casual expression. "He's had a long time to perfect it."  
  
"Riiight," Cohen drawled, but Nicholas could see that she was fast becoming charmed by the personable digimon's humble and respectful manner towards her.  
  
Amanda let out a breath. She'd visited Sweden near the Norwegian border and remembered seeing all the different troll sculptures there , dressed in every which way imaginable. They were highly individualistic and a firm part of the native culture, so maybe this wasn't all that unusual as it seemed at first---though she didn't remember hearing of any 'Sky' Trolls; they were supposed to live in caves and under the ground. However, Knight she considered trustworthy and he was vouching for the performer---and without a doubt the immigrant had a pleasant personality for all his keeping 'quiet as a mime' and dubious taste on clothing accessories. She had to admit, though, that the skulls and his silence did add a compelling touch of dramatic mystery to the magician's act.  
  
Not that she'd ever liked magicians---Amanda preferred truth to illusion. She sniffed at the delicate aroma and fingered the starry flowers. The combination made her think of her native land in Hawaii where her parents still lived.  
  
Okay... maybe all illusions weren't bad and this guy was not going to be a thorn in her side.  
  
Coincidently, the Norwegian's act ended just as she came to that conclusion.  
  
"Nice to have met you, Wizardmon," she smiled, shaking his hand. "We certainly appreciate your taking the time to come in and give us your version of events." She held up the flowers. "And I thank you again for this gift. I'm sure Detective Knight will be able to see to your needs while we get your view on what happened." She turned to her favorite employee, scowl gone from her face. "Knight, you can take your friend into the interrogation room if you think he'd be more comfortable talking in there."  
  
"Thanks, Captain," De Brabant's face beamed with real gratitude. All in all, that had gone much better than he had feared it might.  
  
Lacroix was worrying needlessly.  
  
Amanda scowled at the rest of her employees as she headed back to her office, stopping at the doorway to add: "While everyone else also gets back to w.o.r.k! Confine the gossiping to your own time, people." She shook her head in amused disgust as she spotted Schanke heading back to where the food was kept. That man was a bottomless pit. Fortunately, he was also a good detective and one of the few people who were willing to partner with 'Nick the Knightmare'. Don had a knack for keeping the other's legendary temper from flaring out of control.  
------------------------  
  
Within seconds the bullpen was back to being a beehive of activity, though quick glances continued to be cast towards Nick's desk despite the captain's warning.  
  
Wizardmon hopped down as Nicholas led him to a private room, the vampire pausing only long enough to snag a second box of mixed donuts from Schanke's hands.  
  
"Well, that was thoughtful, Schanke--thanks!"  
  
"What?" Don frowned as he made to grab the box back, but his partner was the taller of the two. Hey---Nick, that's my lunch!"  
  
"Uh, uh. What kind of friend would I be if I let you disappoint Myra?" Nick gleefully wagged a finger at him. "Anymore of these and you won't fit into your high-school sweater anymore."   
  
"For your information, I fit in it just... fine, pard." Schanke groused as Nick closed the interrogation room door in his partner's face. Don caught Officer Williams smirking at him. "So it's a little snug in places. Give me a break," he snorted, grabbing the door handle. It wouldn't budge. "Hey... Nick! Nick!" he banged on the door. "Hello? You forgot your compadre!"  
  
The door opened just long enough for Nick to stick his head out and grin, "No, I didn't." before the door shut again with an audible 'click'. Don caught all the smirks around the room training on him, blushed a little, and then went off to find something else to eat. Man, o' man! Nick was going to owe him big time for this!  
____________________________________  
  
Once safely inside, Nicholas shrugged off his long jacket, sat down and went straight to business: getting the digimon's description of events before, during, and after the robbery. He judiciously pruned out such details as using real magic and the counterfeit bills, though.  
  
"Okay, we're almost done," he said, tapping the filled forms into a neat stack before signing his signature to each. "And it's only a matter of time before we find Martinez and bring him into custody. There should be enough evidence against him and Patterson not to have to drag you into the court room..." he let out a breath "I can't believe this is going so well."  
  
Wizardmon sipped some more water from the straw Nicholas had supplied him--no sense in taking chances should someone manage to come in uninvited. (The 'troll' story might cover a lot of peculiarities, but De Brabant firmly advised that his friend's mouth would not be one of them.)  
  
As if I wasn't already acutely aware of my 'deformity', Wizardmon sighed, feeling just a little depressed. When dying in her arms, he'd told Gatomon that he had no regrets about meeting her despite the dire consequences it had wrought to him---and it had been the truth. She had given him a purpose in life and sacrificing that life for her had in turn given him ease about what he had otherwise considered a wasted and tortuous existence.  
  
He'd just never imagined that the act of dying would be more peaceful and contentment for him than actually being dead! If only the Matrix had been able to retrieve his Data from Kari's world, he would now either be re-formatting within it or rebooting within a new digi egg, all ready to start life over again, hopefully with better results than last time.  
  
But that hadn't happened. But perhaps it was his own doing? Even now he worried for her constantly. Maybe it was his own reluctance to part from her that was keeping Digital World from gathering him back? That was preferable to the idea that his home didn't want him at all.  
  
Actually, he wasn't even sure he remembered ever hatching in the first place. Everything before... Well, Before was a faint blur. And Just-After Before was not something he liked to think about. Nor was his time pretending to be under Myotismon something for the scrap book. In fact, if it wasn't for Gatomon, he'd consider being lost in this world as a sort of unlooked-for blessing.  
  
His old master couldn't possibly locate him now.  
  
Yet there remained the question of what was he to do? What could be his purpose here in Nick's world? Bios! He'd never even found out his true function in the Digital world! Now he felt very much like he was back at Binary Zero! And there was no knowing whether he could even digivolve on this plane of existence unless it actually happened. He could be stuck in this form of his digital evolution as surely as he was stuck on this planet.  
  
So many questions---and never anyone who could answer them.  
  
Wizardmon nursed the last few drops of his drink. At least the water helped to wash down the eight donuts he had consumed. Either Earth food was very good or it was severely lacking in energy potential, he mused. He'd never been this hungry all the time in Digital World and told his new friend so.  
  
De Brabant could sympathize. His own diet of steer's blood always left him feeling a bit lacking as well.   
  
"That's why I want Nat... I mean, Dr. Lambert." he sheepishly corrected himself. "to take a look at you, Wizardmon. She's been working on a better quality food for me (all of which his altered digestive tract had found mildly to hideously nauseating and which he'd ended up dumping down the sink one way or another, he neglected to add), "maybe she can recommend a formula for you that won't require my purchasing another refrigerator," the vampire teased, indicated the emptied box of pastries.  
  
Wizardmon blushed. "I am sorry. I do not wish to be an incon--"  
  
"Oh, I can afford a warehouse full of them. Don't worry about it," Nicholas brushed off the apology.  
  
Wizardmon bowed his head, thinking. It was about time he started paying Nick back for all his kindness. But he had no idea what he could do---the vampire appeared to have everything he wanted save for a cure for his nocturnal state and Wizardmon knew of no magic that could cure that.  
  
"The one called Schanke. He wants something from me very strongly. Something called a 'Jenny'. What does he wish from me, do you know?"  
  
"Schanke?" Nick echoed as if trying to recall the name. "Oh. Don't worry about him. Jenny is his daughter whose birthday is coming up and they're having a big party to celebrate. Don just wants to have you entertain the kids she's invited over."  
  
"Birthday?"  
  
"When she was born. Jenny's going to be eight years old tomorrow and her parents want to do something special for her."  
  
"Ahhh..." Wizardmon smiled, thinking of the images Schanke had had going through his head as he'd watched him work magic. "You mean special like balloons and flowers and sparkles and disappearing white animals?"  
  
Nicholas snorted in good humor. "Exactly. Myra--his wife---wants him to hire an entertainer to keep the kids busy and out of the adults' hair, but Schanke's a bit tight wad when it comes to spending money that way."  
  
"Your friend does not seem to have much hair for that to concern him.  
  
Nick laughed aloud at that. "No... But please don't say that to his face."  
  
"As you wish," the digimon filed the directive away into his memory. "Is there anything else I should avoid when accepting his request?"  
  
"Don't comment on his weight... Wait a minute..." Nick looked up from finishing the forms in order to fix the Data with a disapproving frown. "Absolutely not."  
  
"I believe I can, as you say, keep the children out of others hair. Holding humans attention is easy."  
  
"Of that there is no question---you certainly mesmerized everyone here well enough," Nick dryly commented. But I don't think it's a good idea,"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
Nick pursed his lips, searching for a good argument to sway the digimon.. "There will be lots of children. Maybe as many as twenty of them."  
  
"Nick, I had to lure more than that to Myotismon. And I did a good job even though I hated the reason for it. Doing it again for a good purpose will give me better memories to live with."  
  
"And wear yourself out performing your magic tricks?" Nick shook his head as he shrugged on his jacket. "The Schanke's will lay a good table of food I'm sure, but a bunch of hyper kids will also be plowing into that." He chuckled. "Not to mention Don, himself. I don't want you fainting away mid act. Someone would discover your secret."  
  
The digimon smiled. "Human young are akin to our Babies and Trainees, everything is new and exciting. I will eat well before this party and please the children without 'wearing myself out," the wizard countered. "My doing this will please your friend and that will make you happy as well."  
  
"Except you're not obliged to make me happy."  
  
"No. But I wish to, my friend." Wizardmon told him in all sincerity. "You have done so much for me already. Let me do this for you." He paused. "And for myself as well. Please understand, Nick. I was created to do something, not just take up memory. If I knew just what it was I'm supposed to be doing, I would throw my whole being into it. But I don't. I never have. Let me do this instead?"  
  
Nicholas hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. He could almost feel the green eyes on his back, begging him to agree. He, himself, held grave reservations about the idea, but he also understood the need to feel useful and to repay a debt. How could he say no?  
  
"Okay...but don't say I didn't warn you when some seven-year olds start targeting you with their spit wads. And another thing... I can't go with you. Daylight and I don't mix. But I'm sure Natalie wouldn't mind driving you over."  
_________________________________  



	15. Unexpected Visitors

Part Sixteen: Unexpected Visitors  
  
While in one of Toronto's many commercial dumpster bins...  
  
Cautiously, Joey Martinez opened the lid and clambered out of the business trash receptacle he'd been hiding out in. Twenty-four hours ago, he'd been an ambitious apprentice to a local thief. Now, with the cops around asking for his name, he felt more like the scared 13-year old that he was. Thanks to his close association with Patterson while 'learning the ropes'; he already had a long list of juvenile offenses tied to his name. If caught, he'd be thrown in jail. But without Patterson to tell him what to do, he felt lost.  
  
What was he going to do? Where was he going to hide? The cops had never seemed this numerous before!  
  
Just then a high-pitched wailing sound caught his ear, coming closer and closer at a fast clip.   
  
A police siren? But it was coming from...above?  
  
He looked up in time to see a tumbling mass of dark gray and purple hurtle downwards at great speed until it disappeared into the open dumpster. There was a loud *bang* of something fleshy hitting metal, and then what sounded like a string of curses coming from some foreigner before silence fell..  
  
Blinking, Joey grabbed the lip of the bin, intending to haul him self up enough to peer inside its depths when a loud, somewhat irritating voice such as he'd imagine belonged to a door-to-door salesperson or a talk-show host dispelled the quiet, its brash sound echoing eerily from within the metal trash bin.  
  
"W-Woaa-h-h! W-Whaat-t a-a r-R-UUSH-SH!"  
  
The top of a dark purple, spherical shape began to appear before Martinez startled eyes, two bat wings flapping furiously on either side of a skull as it rose. Joey fell backwards to land on his butt. His eyes widened as the dark ball continued to rise between the furious flapping---revealing not a neck and shoulders, but two, humungous, pigeon-toed feet and a pair of big, orange eyes.  
  
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!  
  
It was a rat! An indigo rat with pigeon feet and bat wings and... and wearing an executioner's cap? Oh, man! How could he be hallucinating when he hadn't taken anything today?!  
  
"Somebody get me the owner of that roller coaster ride! I want'a file a complaint!" the grating voice proclaimed as it wobbly perched itself on the edge of the bin's side, rubbing its forehead with a webbed wing.  
  
"What the heck are you?" Joey managed to squeak out as he scrambled upright while took several steps back.  
  
The bright, bestial eyes of the basketball-sized monster fixed on him, snorting sarcastically as it shot back. "Who the heck am I? Who the heck are YOU?" It flew straight at the teenager, gripping the front of Joey's filthy t-shirt as it knocked the boy back down.  
  
"Phheeew! Human," it sneezed. Pompously, it 'straightened' up with a flourish of its wings and loudly announced: "I am Demidevimon! Right-hand to the Lord Myotismon! Remember the name, human twerp!"  
  
Despite his position of 'flat on his back', Joey managed to summon the panache to bluntly point out that all the creature had were wings and feet. "Right hand?"  
  
The cat's LSD nightmare on his chest leaned forward menacingly until the great eyeballs were close to Joey's much smaller, brown versions.  
  
"Whatever," Demidevimon growled.  
  
Martinez gulped. The creature hopped off of him to fly back up to the dumpster perch. It eyed him critically as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off.  
  
The digimon sulked. The fact was, the only reason that he was important now was that all of Myotismon's other main cronies were just so much data dust after the fight with the Digi-Destined. And if that damned wizard hadn't interfered, Myotismon would have won handedly instead of consuming the digital remains of the Nightmare Army in order to evolve into the Mega, VenomMyotismon. Including consuming himself. Which was a puzzle, the Rookie decided, as how was he here now? Myotismon must have regurgitated his data. Yeah---that was it! His master was giving him a second chance to redeem himself for having dropped Kari's crest and thereby letting Gatomon digivolve into Angewoman in the first place.  
  
"I may only be a Rookie right now, but when Myotismon realizes what a loyal associate I am, he'll help me digivolve into a Champion---maybe even warp to an Ultimate!" The Virus glanced around, eyes darting suspiciously. "Where am I?" he demanded. He had to find Myotismon.  
  
"Toronto."  
  
"Never heard of it," Demidevimon barked, irritated. He considered another, somewhat pressing problem. "Where's the food located here?"  
  
"Hey, I don't have to answer any of your questions, Rat Ball."  
  
Rat Ball! Demidevimon internally snarled, (though, in truth, he rather liked the moniker). "Maybe I should kill and eat you right now, human twerp!" Unfortunately he didn't have a clue as to where in the Two Worlds Toronto was in relation to his master, and the kid might prove useful. He glowered balefully at the middle-sized human. "How did I get into this... 'Toronto'?" The monster said the name as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.  
  
"I'm no travel guide---how the heck should I know?" Joey huffed. "In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you're just another hallucination created by that freak in the pointy hat!" He turned and started to make his way out towards the street. Better the cops than a flying rat.  
  
He'd taken only one step before that flying rat was back in his face, hovering at eye level.  
  
"Did you say 'pointy hat'?" Demidevimon excitedly demanded of the teen. "Would said pointy hat be attached to a two-legged upright such as yourself of about so high"--he flew to about 3' 8"--"have a nasty-shade of yellow hair and a covered face?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"HoHoHOHO!" the Virus digimon executed a triumphant back flip, landed on the asphalt, and commenced to dance a victory jig while crowing his delight. "Wizardmon--you traitorous bag of data bytes---you're MINE! I can't wait to see the boss' face when I drag your sorry, raggedy puss back to Lord Myotismon! Maybe this time he'll even let me be in charge of the torture now that that prig Phantomon is just so much random dust!" Dancing done, he stared straight at Martinez. "And you are going to help me bag him."  
  
"No way!" Joey said, brushing past the digimon. "I've had enough of that guy to last me a lifetime. I'm turning myself in."  
  
The next second he found himself kissing the filth on the ground, right cheek stinging from a blow from a leathery wing.  
  
"What was that, monkeymon boy?"  
  
"Um... there's a vending machine at the school we can break in to for eats?"  
  
"Lead the way, servant."  
  
Martinez's eyes took on a crafty look. "You know... I bet Old Man Schanke would know where to find the one you're after..."  
  
Demidevimon sniffed. "Schanke, huh? What's that? Sounds like a bad smell."  
  
"He's one of the top detectives in the city. Got my pal after he stayed behind to take on this Wizardmon of yours."  
  
Demidevimon snickered humorously. "Then your 'pal' is most likely deleted. Humans are no match for the superiority of a digimimon.".  
  
"Yeah? Well, Sam is pretty tough!" Joey loyally retorted. "And I know he's alive because I overheard some of the cops talking about how he's being held at the 27th. I told you, Old Man Schanke took him and I bet he's got that freak too---or knows where to find him."  
  
Scratching an itch on his chin with the tip of one wing, the Rookie Viral thought it over. He didn't trust this human, but if the other had run against Wizardmon it might be wise to pump the kid for all he knew. "Then we'll be making a stop to pick up your friend"---stomach rumble---"uh…after I've eaten."  
  
Sheesh! No way to sneak into anywhere if his tummy was going to be declaring itself every darn minute!  
  
"Do these 'vending machines' come in 'All You Can Eat' styles?"  
______________________________  
  
To say that Don Schanke had been grateful when Wizardmon had agreed to play entertainer for Jenny's party---for naught but food---would have been an understatement The vampire had thought his partner was going to shake the digimon's arm off such had been Don's ecstatic response.  
  
After leaving the precinct Nick drove the caddy towards Natalie's apartment with Wizardmon riding shotgun. Both were blissfully unaware that the Data was no longer the sole digimon tourist in the city.  
  
"Nat's a good friend of mine," Nicholas related as he drove, smiling as he stole glances at his passenger. (Wizardmon was levitating just enough to see out the windows, eyeballing the myriad sights of downtown as they drove by.) "She's the only human in Toronto who knows what I really am, so we can talk freely around her about anything. You'll find she's very accepting of new situations. Just..."---he paused as if rethinking his last statement---"… maybe let me explain things first before you show yourself."  
  
Wizardmon nodded absently, lost in the spectacle that was neon lights and late-night club attendees ambling to their chosen destinations. Yes, Digital World had its own amazing places and beings, but some of these humans sure dressed oddly. Were studded leather and metal rings through various body parts a symbol of a virus human like the skull was that of the viral digimon's? And did their hair really grow out in large red spikes? It looked like a formidable weapon if so. Maybe they shot off like an ikkakumon's?  
  
  
They made it to the Lambert residence without incident---if you didn't count the landlady following them nearly all the way up before Nick had felt compelled to whammy her into minding her own business.  
  
"Okay, this is her place," Nicholas said as they came to a stop before one of the doors. He knocked. From inside could be heard a frantic female voice telling whomever it was that she was coming but to--  
  
The last was masked by the sound of something shattering.  
  
Nicholas had the door opened and flung wide before the last echo had died.  
  
"Nat?!" he yelled out while in full vampire mode, glancing about for an attacker to either subdue or rend into tiny pieces depending on what they had done to his favorite human.  
  
"Damn it Nick!" a pretty brunette woman yelled back from where she'd popped up from behind the sofa, "I said DON'T open the---SYDNEY! Come back here!!"  
  
Expecting as he was either another vampire or a human assailant, Nick was not prepared for the gray and white bundle of fur that shot between his legs as it made a break for freedom. Unfortunately for the would-be escapee, there was another figure behind its mistress' odd-smelling friend. Wizardmon caught the terrified animal before he knew just what he had a hold of, earning him a face full of claws as 'Sydney' fought to get away. But the wizard was too stunned to notice the damage being inflicted as he stood there, frozen to the spot.  
  
A cat?!  
  
He was holding a cat!  
  
A Real World feline counterpart of Gatomon's dabbed with gray, with a fluffier tail and minus the Champion Vaccine's Lighting Paw weapons. But it was enough of a reminder to send the Data digimon spiraling down into a sea of grief.  
__________________________  
  
(Digital World: The Past/Myotismon's castle)  
  
It was just to have been a trial fight. A bit of sparring before meals were served.  
  
Uncomfortably aware of the others watching them with keen eyes, Wizardmon stood before his commander, silently expressing his willingness to take whatever she wished to dish out in order not to blow his cover.  
  
After recovering from 'showing his allegiance' to Lord Myotismon (aka: supplying the bastard with a meal), Wizardmon had recovered and been told by Phantomon to report to Gatomon who had also healed from her ordeal at the vampire's hands.  
  
No problem there. Sticking by the feline's side was exactly where he wanted to be. Together, they could use any quiet moments they could get to plan out an escape from the Viral's clutches. After all, it wasn't like this would be the first time he'd ever escaped from an egotistical thug.  
  
But his hopes of being able to fit in with this crowd were fast dwindling. Oh, he'd always been able to bluff his way out of most confrontations before---but this was a different situation then when he'd been a hermit. Not a *new* situation, mind you, but certainly not one he preferred to find himself in.  
  
No… as a wanderer he'd always had the option of *not* fighting. Of turning the other cheek-or running if need be.  
  
Not so here. Here he was expected to fight in all manners of dirty and merciless ways in order to keep their mutual master happy and off all their backs.  
  
For instance, just a few hours ago a Gotsumon had been drafted---albeit unwillingly---into Myotismon's service. Just minutes ago the rock digimon had decided to escape by running down the plateau. Gatomon had instantly ordered that Wizardmon dispatch the 'coward'. He'd quickly complied and hurtled a blast at the fleeing Gotsumon, carefully aimed to 'look' like he'd meant business without actually hurting the fellow. And the poor Rookie had gotten away.  
  
Mission accomplished.  
Matrix speed the Gotsumon on his flight to another realm.  
  
Naturally, Gatomon had sputtered and scowled like a disappointed commander.  
  
He'd be reprimanded, of course. Maybe miss a meal or two. But it was worth it to spare a life while keeping up the masquerade of his being a mercenary.  
  
Only... Was his friend putting maybe just a tad too much realism into her cursing? If he didn't know better, he'd think she wasn't bluffing at all… and that those thoughts she was thinking were truly her---  
  
"IDIOT! Is that the best you can do?! A nearsighted numemon could aim better! Lightning Claw!"  
  
Without the least hesitation chartreuse gloves sporting tiger strips crossed his vision in a blur before metal claws ripped into skin. He felt his neck nearly snap in two from the fury of the blow as his knees buckled from under him.  
  
Dizzy and gasping, Wizardmon stared in mute shock as he fingered the long scratches on his face. Wet blood coated the tips of his glove, staining the soft leather a dull scarlet.  
  
What...? Why had she struck him for sparing the gotsumon's life? The burning pain on his face was nothing compared to the conflagulation going on in his heart as he noted that Gatomon was sneering at him with disgust-filled eyes---eyes that did not know him and which were utterly devoid of the compassion she'd shown him just weeks before. And her thoughts…  
  
What had that fiend Myotismon done to her?!  
  
"What is your name, soldier?" Gatomon demanded.  
  
"Wizardmon." he answered softly. She nodded as if she'd never heard the name before and couldn't have cared less if she had. The Data bit back a groan. If Myotismon had physically tied his soul to a stone and flung it into the sea, he didn't think it could sink any faster.  
  
Never mind that it was now obvious that the vampire had, indeed, done something to his friend's memory; he had disappointed her and that knowledge was like the acrid taste of a bitter herb in his mouth. Frankly, it didn't matter to him who Myotismon chose to delete as nearly all here were scoundrels anyway. But Gatomon--the true Gatomon---would have cared, and so he had aimed to frighten and not destroy his opponent. Was the one whom he had come to save already irrevocably lost?  
  
He bowed submissively; glad she could not see the tear falling down his face.  
  
No! He couldn't let that be-fanged bastard win! He wouldn't!  
  
Gatomon, however, wasn't through with him yet. "You'd better shape up, Wizardmon, if you want to amount to anything here," the animal digimon harshly informed him. "Lord Myotismon doesn't appreciate sloppiness in his Nightmare soldiers. When you attack, aim to delete unless I command otherwise." She shoved him away. "And keep that thing you call a mouth covered while you work for me. It's ugly and I don't want to have to look at it."  
  
"I apologize, Gatomon," Wizardmon replied, hastily fixing the rent fabric around his face as well as his damaged skin with magic-tinted fingers. "I will try to do better under you." His eyes widened as he caught a thought from her. "Please don't tell Myotismon of my failure. I assure you it won't happen again."  
  
She whirled on him. "How did you know I was thinking of that?"  
  
"I... er..." he tongue stumbled, realizing that this changed Gatomon was NOT going to like his explanation. "I saw it in your thoughts."  
  
The tip of a pink tongue poked out between two fangs as Gatomon considered him. "Then Demidevimon wasn't lying. He said he'd heard that one of the new recruits could read minds. I hadn't believed him---he's such tail licker. But a talent like that…might prove very useful… perhaps I won't have you used for target practice after all, Wizardmon. If you are unsuited to slaying the master's enemies, maybe you can be of service in other ways." Fast as a thunder bolt, the wizard found himself staring at a set of black talon points a mere inch from his eyes. Just make sure you do not read mine without my permission or these will be the last thing you ever see. I doubt a mind reader needs his sight in order to do his tricks."  
  
Wizardmon shivered at her coldness.  
  
"Yes, of course. I understand."  
  
Just as quickly, the deadly implements were withdrawn. He took a quick breath, only realizing then that he had stopped breathing all together.  
  
"Good. Now go with Skullmeramon and hunt down that coward you let get away. Delete him here---where you should have done it in the first place---and maybe this little incident will slip my mind when I report to our master."  
  
"Anything for you, Gatomon," Wizardmon bowed, taking off to search for the AWOL Data that had fled Myotismon's service after the Data wizard had defeated him in a 'trial' fight.  
  
'I will bear your claws when you are angry, bind your wounds when you are hurt til I live to see the true Gatomon break free of Myotismon's evil. I will do better for you, Gatomon. And I will see you deleted for what you have done to my only friend, Myotismon. I promise!'  
____________________________  



	16. Shades of Rejection

Part 17: Shades Of Rejection  
  
"Wizardmon, what is it?!" Nicholas asked as he carefully pried the frantic cat out of the frozen gloved hands and handed Sydney over to Natalie to lock in her bedroom. When the doctor returned, he was still trying to get an answer from his softly wailing companion.  
  
Being the more practical of the two, Dr. Lambert prodded the pair to move inside from the hallway before one of her neighbors decided to see what was going on. She directed Nick to take his friend over to her couch while she retrieved her medical kit and a box of tissues from her bathroom, silently wondering what was going on now.  
  
Ever since Nick had been wheeled into her lab room and gotten up out of that body bag, her life had become far more interesting than she'd ever hoped for. How many other doctors had a real, live---or undead--- vampire as a willing test subject? And the fact that said vampire was pretty darn good looking was just icing on the chocolate cake!  
  
"I'm so sorry about this," she apologized to her small guest as she nudged Nicholas to move aside so that she could tend to the other's wounds. "I was just getting Sydney ready to take out, but he always seems to know when a v.e.t. is in his future and it's like trying to corral the Tazmanian Devil. God forbid he should ever figure out his own mommy is one of the Cursed Ones" she joked then silently mouthed at Nicholas, "Is he one of 'them'?"  
  
Nick shook his head. "No, he isn't, but he does know about vampires."  
  
"Ah. One of a rare breed then," she drawled, dabbing a cotton ball into the disinfectant. "Okay, kiddo, let's see what amount of damage dear old Sydney managed to inflict on--"  
  
She had been prepared for a protest by the child---nobody much cared for the sting of alcohol against an open wound---but she had not expected to feel Nicholas' iron grip wrap around her wrist.  
  
"Rarer than you realize."  
  
"Nick, if this child isn't one of you, then those scratches will get infected if I don't treat them!" Exasperated, she tried to pull her hand back, but he held on. "Nick---let go!"  
  
"Natalie," her daylight-impaired patient returned, "Wizardmon may not be a vampire, but neither is he a human child."  
  
"You mean he's a midget?" Natalie asked, trying to peer under the purple hat. "Sorry about that, but it's kind of hard to tell anything what with all of-"  
  
Shaking his head, the vampire corrected her again.  
  
"No." He let go of her wrist, apologizing for his action by massaging it gently to restore the circulation, "He's not from our world, Nat. And his face is... different from what you are expecting to find." He spoke softly into his companion's ear. Hesitantly, the stranger nodded, and began removing his hat and cowl.  
  
Not of their world? Was this a joke? But Nick's expression was dead serious and did not waver. Steeling herself for what she would see, Natalie held her breath as first a dark-golden mane of straight hair was fully revealed, then grief-reddened eyes of green surrounded by skin the color of a sunlight-lit rain cloud. Skin that was marred by multiple claw welts and wet with tears from those too large eyes as the gloved hands slowly tugged off the fabric that had been concealing---  
  
"Oh, my God---"Dr. Lambert gasped as his 'nose' and mouth areas were revealed---"what is it?!"  
  
Wizardmon hurriedly buried his face within both his arms, sobbing afresh in his misery as another memory from his past flayed him like a barbed whip:  
----------------------------  
(Digital World: The Past /The Estate of A Viral Lord)  
  
The recently digivolved Champion wizard stood frozen in disbelief as his Rookie friends, two crabmon, and a candmon snubbed him one by one, their backs turned against the sky-colored digimon.  
  
"I don't understand. What have I done?' he beseeched, nervously gripping the brim of his new hat. He turned to plead with each of the crabmon. "Is this because I am now more powerful than you are? So I'm an adult---so what! Do you think that matters to me? You will all digivolve too. Nothing has really changed." Not getting a reply from the crustaceans, he turned to the living candlestick, getting down on his knees like a peasant petitioning his lord. "Tell them Candmon," he quietly begged. "You know me. You even gave me my Rookie name. I'm not going to demand to be leader---you must realize that I'd never do that to you. Magicalmon or Wizardmon--- just sounds in the ear, right? Nothing has changed, not really. We can go on as bef-"  
  
With a roar the Rookie leader turned around and wedged the wizard's roundish face between his wax forearms. "Oh, yes it has!" his former best friend and elder of the group harshly informed him. "Look at you. You're disgusting!" He thrust the wizard away, brushing at his wax as if they had become soiled through contact with the blue skin.  
  
Green eyes widened in shock. "What?"  
  
"You're ugly!" one of the hard shells smugly clarified for him.  
  
"Floramon kissed me," he mumbled the feeble defense. "She wouldn't do that if she thought I was ugly."  
  
Would she?  
  
"Data Flash, buddy, the older crabmon snorted. "That was a dare! When he heard you'd digivolved into an even bigger freak, we dared her to kiss you and tell us what it felt like." The younger continued with a cruel smile, "She said she hated it---that it was even painful."  
  
His ex-best friend nodded. "Bios knows it was hard enough to overlook before," Candmon's scathing voice added. "But this is too much even with Master's command to pay it no mind. None of us can stand to look at you any longer. Now get lost. Go back to Master---he's the only one who wants to have you around. You're not wanted around here!"  
  
"Defect! Go away! Get lost!"  
  
"But..." Wizardmon began, and then tremblingly got to his feet, not understanding the others---or not wanting to. When he had first arrived, it had been Candmon who had made up a name for him when he'd been unable to recall who he was let alone where he'd come from. Placing the pointy hat firmly onto his head, he took a step forward, expression distressed. "What do you mean by "Master's command"?"  
  
Candmon's sent a flame out from a waxed arm to stop him from stepping closer. Wizardmon fell back a step, not quite turning his face quickly enough to avoid being singed along his cheek. He winced at the painful burn, but was as yet unwilling to retreat. Maybe this was all just a sick game they were playing today? A hazing for his having digivolved above them? Soon now they'd laugh and tell him it was all a joke. And they would play dodge ball or tag or something.  
  
Wouldn't they?  
  
He risked a glimpse into their thoughts---so desperate was he for another explanation---and recoiled at what he saw there.  
  
This was no game.  
  
Backing away from the hostile trio, Wizardmon felt the tears tumble from his eyes to get partially caught in the stitches that graced his new mouth.  
  
That really was what they thought? He couldn't help it if he'd digivolved into this 'wizardmon' form! Or were wizardmons suppose to look like this? He reached an unfamiliar hand inside the cowl in order to feel the flexible threads that had come with his new body. Nobody he knew had ever seen or heard of a wizardmon before, so he had no idea if something was wrong or not. What if he really was a chance anomaly in the System like Master had said? A glitch? A.. .defect?"  
  
Unwanted. Unneeded. Without purpose.  
  
"You think we played with you willingly?" Candmon continued upon seeing he still had not moved. "You're defective! That's why there aren't any other wizardmons around---nope, not one! You're nothing but a mistake in the System---a filthy glitch!"  
  
"Yeah--- a filthy glitch!" the Crabmon twins echoed, snapping their pincers in chorus.  
  
"Glitch! Glitch! Filthy wizardmon glitch!"  
  
Gasping, Wizardmon hastily pulled up the short cowl of his cape and clapped his hands over his ears to try to shut out the taunts. He'd known for a long time that he wasn't pleasant to look upon---hadn't Master said so? ---but he had hoped that by digivolving his features would improve. Even after darting a glance into the polished surface of one of Master's pots before going to find the others, he had still hoped. Now there was no denying the truth:  
  
His face was twice as ugly as before. No doubt the rest of him was even more despicable to behold. That was why Master had insisted that he never take off the outfit he'd been given save when bathing in solitude---to hide his disfigured servant's secret.  
  
Why ever had he let them talk him into removing the hat and cowl from his face?  
  
** You are not a true digimon. The others will reject you if they see you as you are, so you must wear these at all times. **  
** But… they are my friends, Master. **  
** Are you questioning me? **  
** Oh no, my lord! **  
** I should hope not. You know I have only your best interests at heart. **  
  
Gloved hands absently fingered the wide hat and concealing cloak which hid most of his head as he gave each of his 'playmates' one last look.  
  
They despised him.  
  
Only Tapirwomon, who was keeping a little apart from the others, gave him a sympathetic look, but he was too upset to notice.  
  
Master was wise and compassionate to give him these things. He should have obeyed him and kept covered. Now he'd lost all his friends!  
  
The jeers and tauntings continued even louder. Candmon finally picking up their ball and throwing it at him. Hard.  
  
Anger rose up within the wizard. So that was the way things were going to be for him from now on until he digivolved again---maybe even into something worse! Well, so what? The System could go Dark for all he cared! His fellow digimon could slowly fragmentize! In fact, he was going to care only for himself! He didn't care for them! He wouldn't care---not ever again! Clenching his fists, he floated away over the ground at top speed, intent on reaching nowhere in particular. To do nothing in particular.  
  
All Digital World would see how much he didn't care! That would show the System!  
  
"Wizardmon, wait!"  
  
Turning around without actually stopping his flight, Wizardmon saw Tapirwomon running after him. He felt half inclined to ignore her and keep going, but he stiffly stood still until she came up to him.  
  
Tapirwomon was an animal Vaccine Rookie who stored nightmares to use as a defense. It hadn't been enough to save her when she'd been kidnapped by the group's master to act as a resident nurse, but as a 'slave' she knew what it was like to suffer the diatribes of others. For years now, she had acted as the Rookie Magicalmon's nanny, and her heart broke for the mon who had at one time arrived as a whimsical and outgoing sprite--- and had been slowly changed into an increasingly insecure hermit. This was more of their master's manipulation of her sensitive charge, she was sure. Poor Wizardmon!  
  
"Wizardmon, where are you going?"  
  
Truthfully, he hadn't really thought about that. It wasn't like his master allowed him free reign in his estate.  
  
"Does it matter?" he snapped, refusing to look at her. Had she come to tell him how much she hated him too? "Everyone made it perfectly clear about how they felt."  
  
The tapir-shaped digimon reared up onto the puffs of cloud that formed her back legs and gave him a hug. "It does to me. I don't care what Master's interference have made you look like---inside your still my little Magicalmon."  
  
Sniffling, the humanoid wilted until he had buried his face into the soft fur, breathing in her scent as if it was the sweetest of flowers. "Tapirwomon… is it true? Did Master really tell everyone to accept me even though they didn't want to?"  
  
"*I* always accepted you," Tapirwomon reminded him. "No mon needed to order me, little one."  
  
"Mmm… Not so little, anymore." the new wizard smiled, taking some comfort in her calling him that even though it used to irk him before. ""But the others?"  
  
The beast digimon sighed and hugged him tighter. "Yes. Master, threatened to beat them if they didn't."  
  
Wizardmon swallowed, lifting his head enough to rest it upon the golden metal plate that protected her head "Why?"  
  
"I imagine in order to entice you to stay of your own accord. He was very keen that we always kept tabs on you when you weren't in his lab."  
  
"And now? Do you think he want me to leave now that I've digivolved?"  
  
"I think the act of those three's nagging you to show them your new form despite your obvious reluctance wasn't just inspired by curiosity! I think that whole charade was orchestrated to go just as it went so you'd go running back to him! And I wonder how he plans to get *me* to reject you as well so that he can bind you even closer to himself and himself alone," Tapirwomon growled.  
  
Frowning, Wizardmon reluctantly pulled out of her embrace. This was the one point of contention that they had between them: that Tapirwomon felt no allegiance to their master. "I am already bound to him," he avowed loyally. "He rescued me, Tapirwomon. He's not just 'Master'---he's my savior. If he occasionally hurts me, it's for my own good."  
  
"Rescued you?" Tapirwomon scoffed. "Or just made you *think* he'd rescued you."  
  
The Data grimaced. "You never understand."  
  
"Oh, I understand plenty! This *is* Master we are talking about, Wizardmon, though I know you never wanted to hear it before. You are so much smarter than those reprobates back there. Maybe even as smart as Master. Why won't you see that he is manipulating you?"  
  
"Tapirwomon…" Wizardmon sighed.  
  
"No! He stole a child with amnesia who'd gotten lost somehow. He ordered others to be 'playmates' for you. He forbids you from being anywhere or with anyone he didn't tell you to be with. He will do or say anything to get what he wants. Friend? Wizardmon!" she ended with exasperation, "We are all nothing but his slaves! Daemon is nobody's friend."  
  
"But that's just it, Tapirwomon! I didn't get lost---to get lost you have to first belong somewhere! Do you know where he found me? With koromon! I'd traveled to a number of villages, but only the youngest children would dare to play with me. Everyone else shooed me away---and not always gently. He was yelling now. "Where do I belong, Tapirwomon! Huh? Tell me where I belong! But you can't, can you? Because they're right---there ARE NO OTHERS LIKE ME! I'm an error. A mistake. A filthy GLITCH!"  
  
With that he turned and fled towards the building that held Daemon's lab room---the only 'home' he knew to go to.  
_________________________  



	17. The Doctor Will See You Now...

  
Part 18: The Doctor Will See You Now...  
  
(Dr. Lambert's Apartment-Toronto)  
  
"Wizardmon?" a soft, feminine voice asked. "Nick? Are you sure he's not one of you? He's got that same spaced out look you get when--"  
  
"What?" the Data snuffled from behind the double protection of his sleeves. His arms had slipped down to his nose level while he'd been remembering. He brought them up again.  
  
Natalie gave a small cough. "I'm sorry. That was a very unprofessional response on my part. But Nick's explained everything now, so if it's okay with you, I'd like to finish what I started as well as do a general exam? Alright?"  
  
The doctor gently tugged down on the digimon's arms so that she could see his eyes again.  
  
"Please?"  
  
The dark pupils shifted in Nick's direction.  
  
De Brabant nodded. "It's okay."  
  
Slowly, Wizardmon lowered his arms until his hands rested on his lap.  
  
The remains of tears were still there, but there was smooth skin where the welts had been.  
  
Natalie sighed as she closed the alcohol bottle and chucked the wet cotttonball into a nearby wastebasket while handing her guest a clean tissue with which to wipe his face. "Are humans the only ones with low-caliber healing systems? This is not doing anything for either my professional or personal self-esteem."  
  
"Looks that way, Nat," Nicholas grinned. "Jealous?" He smiled lopsidedly at her as she flung a second of the fluffy puffs and beaned him square on the nose. "Shall I take that as an affirmative?"  
  
"Quiet, you. I'm trying to examine a patient, here."  
  
"Yes, milady," the vampire said with grin still firmly in place.  
  
Natalie ignored him as she studied Wizardmon's mouth, placing a tentative finger down one of the thick, silken threads. Now that the initial shock was over, she found the brownish material fascinating---if still somewhat disturbing. The sight of them evoked the memories of a half-dozen horror novels and movies she'd enjoyed---if that was the right word--during Toronto's more inclement weather spells.  
  
"How do you eat with these things blocking your mouth?" she asked him, noting that the stitches---though they had looked like regular cording from a distance---were actually comprised of some sort of soft metal filigree.  
  
Wizardmon blinked. No one had ever asked him that before---at least, not in such a non-sarcastic voice. Was she truly as intrigued about him as she sounded? All at once, he felt somewhat self-conscience for reasons other than those that he normally felt when mon remarked on his appearance. As with Nick, this human was truly curious about him for his own sake and not just to find a way to hurt him! The Data was not used to sensing such thoughts or emotions regarding himself and he found himself somewhat at a loss as to how to behave Did you thank someone for not insulting you?  
  
"They... slice my food."  
  
Right away the doctor lifted her finger from the silken material and checked the tip for cuts.  
  
"Not now," the Data sighed, reading her apprehension, a reaction he was far more familiar with than the other. Here he was getting to like the novel sensation of being looked at with something other than disgust and look how long it lasted! "First I have to stretch them, you see.." he slowly opened his mouth to almost an inch wide, revealing the inner crossworking of the threads as well as a slender tongue. The more he opened his mouth, the more the threads thinned in diameter, becoming stiff and hard like steel wire. "Then I push the food against them if it is too big. It works best if I move my mouth sideways a little as well. He demonstrated by making very short, rapid shakes of his head.  
  
"And this flexing doesn't hurt you?" Natalie asked as she peered into his mouth to try to get a better look at the inner stitches.  
  
"No. As long as I do it properly it actually feels very good. If I rush, then it hurts some."  
  
"Do you mind if I try something?  
  
The digimon started to raise his arms again, leaning away from her a little as he clamped his mouth shut.  
  
"That depends." Again he looked at Nicholas for direction.  
  
"He says his mouth is very sensitive to pressure or trauma," Nicholas explained. "But you weren't planning on anything like surgery, were you, Nat?"  
  
Natalie heard the warning in his voice and hastily shook her head. "Erm.. no. Of course not." She reached into her medical supplies and retrieved only a stainless-steel dental mirror instead of the delicate pair of scissors she'd planned on retrieving along with it.  
  
Darn! So much for getting a tissue sample.  
  
Seeing that the digimon looked very nervous, she decided to distract him with another question.  
  
"Tell me how is it I am hearing you with my ears, but your mouth and throat are not moving?"  
  
Wizardmon saw with relief that the instrument in her hands did not look like it could do him any damage and decided to reopen his mouth for her. "I don't know. Most of the adult animal digimon converse without using their mouths. Is it different for you?"  
  
"Mmm… what it the same with this Gatomon of yours?" Natalie asked as she touched one of the stitches head on with the telescoping mirror, curious to see how much it would give. Not much. She then tried rubbing metal against metal to see if friction would get the thread to give even more. The result was a sigh of pleasure from the digimon as his eyelids drooped.  
  
"That feels good, huh?" the doctor observed.  
  
The digimon made what she took as an affirmative sound.  
  
"I wonder…" Natalie hypothesized as she maneuvered the mirror between two wires to look at the inside of his 'lips' "if it's not the stitches themselves that you're feeling, but that the thread is connected directly into a network of nerves around the edges of your mouth?" She delicately taped the mirror piece on the fleshy tissue right where a lace entered the skin. The digimon moaned in ecstasy.  
  
Wizardmon's eyes popped open---had that sound come from him?!  
  
"Well, that's an interesting development," A mildly flustered Dr. Lambert offered in apology, starting to withdraw her instrument out of his mouth.  
  
Already nervous, Wizardmon reacted to the unexpected movement by flinching. The mirror bumped into the side of the stitch, cutting through the neck piece like it was made of butter before she could move it away. Natalie raised an eyebrow as the sheared off mirror head was spat out.  
  
"Holy Cow!" she exclaimed.  
  
Her bovine-blood drinking friend gave the coroner a nasty look. Being a steer blood drinker by choice as well as having an allergic reaction to all things holy, he didn't appreciate the use of that particular expression.  
  
"Uh...sorry about that Nick. Unfortunate slang term."  
  
"I am the one who is sorry," Wizardmon apologized, face taking on a purplish tinge as he bowed his head. "I've broken you're tool and acted disgracefully."  
  
"Um, no...it was an accident. Obviously neither of us knew that that was an…"---she floundered for a less graphic term--- "a touchy area for you." Natalie finished, inspecting what was now a plain pointer stick.  
  
Despite her attempts to put a clinical face on it, the digital wizard still looked mortified. "I don't understand it… I clean them with my tongue all the time."  
  
"Maybe it was the metal contact with another metal that did it," Nicholas said in a mollifying tone. Now…if you're both done apologizing to each other?" the vampire smiled. He took up the sawed-off end of the mirror and eyed the neat edge just below the base. "Whew! Just remind me never to stick my fingers in your mouth."  
  
"Do not stick your fingers in my mouth."  
  
Natalie chuckled as she took out her stethoscope. "Why did I see that coming? Okay... lets check out the old ticker, and Nick says you might have been knifed." She tapped a finger to the front of his chest between the bindings on his red vest. "Would you mind unbuttoning that?"  
  
Wizardmon blushed a darker shade of purple. After what had just happened a minute ago---and she wanted to continue? He was through embarrassing himself---thank you very much! "As a matter of fact, I would."  
  
"For goodness sake," Natalie said in what was not quite a huff, "I'm a doctor."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I see entire naked bodies all the time. Not that I'm asking you to go monty for me."  
  
Wizardmon mulled the unfamiliar word over for a moment before he guessed what it meant. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, blocking her access even more.  
  
"Good. Because you haven't seen mine and your not going to."  
  
"Nick?" the frustrated doctor exclaimed to her friend.  
  
"Wizardmon, she's only trying to help. Don't you have medical workers in the Digital World?"  
  
"Not as a class," Wizardmon answered sullenly as he continued to warily eye the human female before him. "Some digimon are willing to help the injured if needed, but I'm not hurt and I'm positive that my 'ticker'--whatever that is---is fine." He gave a thoughtful pause. "But I am hungry."  
  
"Again?" Nick snickered, "You're worse than a fledgling vampire."  
  
The humanoid 'monster' shrugged. "I'm hungry."  
  
"Hungry, huh?" Natalie interjected. ""Tell you what, you let me finish examining you, and I'll get you a nice plate of something to eat."  
  
The pointed ears swiveled in her direction. "You have fooood?" the wizard practically drooled, rubbing his stomach with a dreamy expression on his face.  
  
Natalie chuckled. "Yeah, 'fooood'" she mimicked. "Not everyone on the planet exists on a liquid diet." She turned to Nicholas, "What does he eat?"  
  
"Near as I can tell, he's a cross between a goat and a garbage disposal." He showed her the tiny mirror. "And a pretty darn impressive one at that."  
  
"So I've noticed," she ruefully agreed taking the item back and tossing it into the wastebasket along with the cotton ball.  
  
"Put it on my bill," Nick suggested. "As for food… Try anything organic. Oh. And better make it plant based--- he's a practicing vegetarian."  
  
"Well, sure," Natalie rolled her eyes, "why not? What could be more normal than a living computer program that's fussy about his diet? God knows my desk system rejects half the software I try to feed it." She got up from the couch.  
  
"You know, Nick, one of these days I'm going to get normal human males coming to my door looking for medical help and free eats who don't suffer from dietary problems. Wouldn't that be something? We could go out…share a Ben & Jerry's.. a perfectly normal lunch date."  
  
Her vampire reached over and gave her a quick peck on the forehead.  
  
"And you'd be bored silly," he told her.  
  
She smirked. "True."  
  
The sound of a discreet cough interrupted them.  
  
"Eat first," Wizardmon asked hopefully "then finish this 'examining' you want? I'm can be much more amiable when not hungry," he added in a wheedling tone.  
  
"Why do I always let myself be suckered by aliens?" The coroner groaned before pushing through the door to her kitchen.  
  
"Because you can't resist the wiles of inhuman charm?" the vampire quipped after her.  
  
"I'll get you later."  



	18. A Jug Of Wine, A Loaf Of Bread, & Thou

Part 19: A Loaf Of Bread, A Jug Of Wine, & Thou  
  
After a minute she came back with an assortment of breads, fruits and vegetables laden in a bowl.  
  
"Dinner is served, Monsieur Wizardmon," she offered, serving him the food along with a bad French accent. "The establishment hopes it is to your liking?"  
  
The digimon gave her a quizzical look as he politely asked, "Are you all right, Lady Natalie? Your voice sounds different."  
  
His waitress noticeably deflated at that, placing the bowl in front of him.  
  
"Just eat."  
  
The two Earth dwellers watched in mute fascination as the boyish wizard---eschewing the fork his host had provided--- began to devour everything by systematically holding the edibles to his mouth and shaving away at it with his stitches--- even the tough rind of a cantaloupe that she'd cut into sections for him. And not one drop or crumb made it to the floor.  
  
"That was good!" Wizardmon sighed, the tip of his tongue delicately maneuvering between the now relaxed metal in order to carefully lick the area clean of errant scraps. "Thank you, Nicholas my friend and Nicholas' friend, Natalie."  
  
"Isn't that dangerous," Natalie winced just watching the operation, the early demise of her mirror still etched into her mind. "You could give 'bite my tongue off' a whole new meaning."  
  
Wizardmon grunted in agreement. "It took some practice, but I am careful. It's not like everyone would stoop to aid a 'glitch' clumsy enough to injure himself. I do use a brush for a better job of it, but as you might imagine, the replacement rate is rather high." Feeling suddenly melancholy, he looked down at the empty bowl. "Too, I don't know if I'll ever get home again to buy a new one… so I want it to last." He surreptitiously wiped away a tear that was threatening to fall from his eye.  
  
Nick and Natalie exchanged glances.  
  
"Hey, chin up---I was only joking," told him kindly. "And I'm sure we have the equivalent of stitch brushes somewhere on Earth---as a temporary solution until you get back home, of course."  
  
The wizard smiled his gratitude for her optimism on his behalf. He had to think positive---he *would* get home again.  
  
Dr. Lambert took the empty bowl from his hands. "Well, at least he's cleaner than some of my regular patients," she commented in passing to her coworker. "And its refreshing that one of you isn't a picky eater." Her eyes twinkled. "That reminds me..." Rising up to her feet, Natalie headed for her kitchen. "Excuse us a minute, Wizardmon, but…Nick? I have something I want you to try. It's a new recipe..."  
  
Nick made a show of consulting his watch. "Gee, Nat...I think its time we..."  
  
"Nicholas…?" Wizardmon began to question, sensing distress coming from his friend.  
  
Shooting Wizardmon an admonishment to "wait there a moment," Natalie grabbed the knight's sleeve and neatly steered him into the kitchen where she pulled out a chair from her small dining table. "Oh, no--you two aren't going anywhere. Sit, buster. You're 'Norwegian troll' will be fine by himself for a few minutes."  
  
Nicholas gave a theatrical moan, but dutifully---if unhappily--- sat.  
  
Opening her refrigerator, Natalie took out a plastic tumbler and set it before him. He didn't need to bring it to his nose to decide that the concoction smelled even viler than the last batch she'd devised for his tasting. Ruthlessly, he suppressed his automatic 'gag' reflex.  
  
"Try that while I fix my own cup of liquid energy and we can discuss in private what we're going to do with your friend out there."  
  
"We?" Nicholas asked absently, most of his mind busy trying to figure out how he was going to get rid of the drink without hurting Natalie's feelings. The stuff was part of her attempts to cure him of his vampirism by weaning him off of blood. So far, they'd only managed to sicken him and leave him as hungry as ever. He was sure that if he'd been human, the drink would taste just fine, unfortunately, as it was... But then, if he was human, then she wouldn't be experimenting with his diet either. For one thing, the 13th Century man and the 20th Century woman would never have met.  
  
It was a nice little Catch 22. He couldn't have a closer relationship with her because of the very thing that had made it possible for them to be in the same time period at all.  
  
Natalie chuckled as she fished out some milk from her refrigerator, pouring some into a bowl for Sydney as well as into the machine. "Hey, you're the one who brought him over to show me. I am now officially involved." She turned on her espresso maker.  
  
Catching the slight movement of the kitchen door opening a crack, Nicholas looked over to see Wizardmon cautiously peek inside. A sly grin spread over the vampire's face as he clandestinely indicated for the digimon to enter. Glancing back to make sure Natalie was preoccupied with her caffeine preparations, he again gestured---this time that Wizardmon should get under the table.  
  
Puzzled, but willing, Wizardmon did as instructed and was rewarded by a delicious aroma when Nicholas silently passed him the tumbler.  
  
Well, if Nicholas wanted him to eat even more Wizardmon was happy to oblige! In a matter of seconds, he had downed the container's liquid contents, happily licking his mouth in an attempt to claim every last gooey molecule of the stuff.. Nicholas hastily snatched the empty tumbler back as the coroner turned around, steaming coffee mug in hand.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Natalie asked, pulling out a chair to sit beside him.  
  
"Uh...about what?"  
  
"The protein drink, Nick."  
  
He spared the container a quick glance, trying to appear nonchalant. "Oh. It was... uh, passable."  
  
"Really?"  
  
She gave him a radiant smile, making him feel guilty for lying to her. But she had no idea how awful those things were to his vampire palate. Besides, the stuff had been 'passable' in a literal sense. He'd just passed it to another hadn't he?  
  
"Nick that's great!" She appropriated the tumbler and looked inside. "Wow...and you ate all of it?"  
  
The vampire was feeling more guilty by the second. Not to mention worried. He could almost see the gears in her scientific mind working. Oh, god---she was going to make him more of these, wasn't she?  
  
"We've finally found something you can tolerate besides..." She felt her foot bump into something that was too soft to be part of her furniture set, and too angled away from Nicholas to be a part of him.  
  
Her eyes narrowed a bit.  
  
"Nick?" she asked pleasantly.  
  
"Hmm," he murmured, gracing her with an unnaturally bright smile which only served to confirm her suspicion.  
  
She made him wait while she took a sip from her cappuccino.  
  
"You know, Nick... If I were to say...oh... look under this table, I wouldn't happen to find a certain garbage-disposal of a digimon, would I?"  
  
"Um…" De Brabant thought that he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment. Even if it was sunbathing on top of the CN Tower.  
  
"Because if I did, said digimon and his fangy partner will be toast."  
  
The vampire's smile turned sickly as an anxious voice piped up from the vicinity of their feet.  
  
"Then, please, Lady Natalie, do NOT look under this table!"  
  
The wizard scrambled out from under the table, giving them a moment's fright at the sight of his protein-drink gummed visage. "You didn't tell me she could shoot flames! Can all humans here do that?"  
  
Ignoring the questions, Nick coughed into his hand, kicking back his chair as a prelude to vacating the area. "Well. I think it's definitely time we left. I've got to see someone about getting Wizardmon set with some Norwegian identity papers and such."  
  
"Nick..." his girlfriend sternly warned.  
  
"No time like the present." Her vampire friend knelt down to scoop up the digimon, heading for the door. "The captain just might decide to look into his background after all, and I want to have all the bases covered."  
  
Joke over, an alarmed Natalie rushed after them. "Nick, you aren't thinking of taking him to the Raven! How will the Community react? I mean, that cover story you gave will only go so far. Why can't you do all this over the phone?"  
  
Wizardmon---whose stitches were getting more gunked up by the second courtesy of the drying protein drink--- agreed. "I don't know what a phone is," he told Nicholas, "but she is genuinely worried---as you are sorry for hurting her."  
  
"Wizardmon, shut up."  
  
"Yes, Nick." The digimon cringed within in his grip, turning his attention to futily scrubbing at the concrete substance on his face in forlorn silence.  
  
Damn.  
  
"Sorry...just try to keep other's thoughts to yourself." Nick ruefully faced Natalie as he let Wizardmon down on his feet. The digimon promptly floated up, much to the doctor's surprise despite seeing it before.  
  
"He's right, I am sorry about trying to trick you, Nat. I really should have at least tasted your recipe myself. But I was going to drop Wizardmon off at my place, not take him to the club."  
  
Tearing her gaze from the digimon levitating two feet off her floor, Natalie was quick to point out, "In the same vein---if you'll pardon the expression---of avoiding unnecessary contact with your extended relations, why don't you let him stay here? You said Lacroix woke him up last time...maybe he'd be more comfortable sleeping here away from any surprise visitors?" She gave the Data a meaningful look. "Besides, he still owes me for the food, and I'm not letting him weasel out of our deal."  
  
Wizardmon floated closer to Nicholas as if seeking protection. He'd rather hoped she'd forgotten about that!  
  
Laying a reassuring hand on the digimon's shoulder, the corners of Nicholas' mouth twitched into the beginnings of a smile. "He'd eat you out of apartment and home, Nat."  
  
"But at least I'd know that someone enjoyed my cooking."  
  
"Ouch." De Brabant pantomimed being struck in the chest with one hand while reaching for his cell phone with the other.  
  
Reaching over, she grabbed a wide-eyed Wizardmon by a sleeve and hauled him along to her bathroom. "Now c'mon, Mr. Bottomless Pit… It looks like your going to need the assistance of a washcloth and an introduction to something called WaterPik."  
  
Chuckling, Nicholas punched his speed dial number for the Raven and was rewarded by deep, thumping music coming from the nightclub's background. A pleasantly accented male voice came on.  
  
["This is the Raven, where the night's enjoyment is eternal..."]  
  
Nicholas almost laughed, wondering who had come up with that greeting. "Catchy opening, Miklos, you should go into the commercial jingle business. Patch me through to Janette will you?"  
  
["Nick? Sure thing."]   
  
He waited as he heard the amused bartender repeat his sister's name to someone.  
  
[ "Hello?"]  
  
"Janette, I need some information."  
  
(Hearing the sexy vampiress' name being spoken through the open door, Dr. Lambert made an expression of distaste, as she scrubbed away at the mage's face with a washcloth.)  
  
  
Wizardmon gave her a sideways look when he felt her thoughts darken considerably---along with the intensity of her scrubbing.  
  
He'd tried to tell her he could do this by himself, but she'd insisted, giving off all sorts of strange vibrations as she'd 'assisted' him ---not to mention changing her vocal tones. It was not unlike those behaviors he'd observed while studying adult humans interacting with the smaller children they had.  
  
Surely she didn't think he was a dependant child? He was several hundred years out from the digital egg, for Azulamong's sake! An adult by digimon standards for several decades! He was no infant who needed to be coddled and…  
  
Then again… this did feel sort of… nice.  
  
For years the wizard had played the part of protector for Gatomon. For a long time before that he'd been alone---his own sole guardian against the evils of the world. But before that he had had someone that he'd been able to go to for protection and comfort. He'd forgotten how wonderful a treasure that was---to have someone willing to 'chase the kwagumon' away.  
  
Would it hurt to swallow his pride just a little?  
  
Slowly, he relaxed his 'martyr pose' and succumbed to her ministrations.  
.  
"Lady Natalie, who is this 'Janette'?" Wizardmon telepathed to her, wishing to know if this was a new enemy he'd have to be on guard for.  
  
"Janette DuCharme, owner of the Raven and Nick's sister," the coroner scowled. "A vamp in all meanings of the word."  
  
"Ah," Wizardmon commented, not understanding what she meant by that, but seeing Nicholas' look of disapproval aimed at them, decided it was best to keep quiet while the vampire concluded his business.  



	19. Invoking The Past

Not much humor in this one I'm afraid, but at least I got it out fast!  
Btw, Kyer is always on the lookout for Wizfic. So if you see such fic and my name is not on the Reviews then please notify me of it. I absolutely adore Wiz! {{Oo,  
**************************************************  
  
  
Part 20: Invoking The Past  
  
The Feminine and very French voice at the other end lightly snickered in amusement.  
  
["Well, well... my favorite vampire cop needs a... what is the human term… stool pigeon? So what else is new? What is it this time, mon chere? Another criminal terrorizing the city? One of your human pets getting too close to the truth?"]  
  
Lips pressed tightly together, De Brabant rolled his eyes. He loved Janette, but did she have to spend half of their time together mocking him?  
  
"No, Janette. Please listen---this is serious."  
  
["All your human relation problems are, mon frere. You should give up this silly quest of yours, Nicola. Stop playing Don Quixote with your Doctor 'Sanchez' and return to us; to me."] The last was said in a sultry whisper laden with meaning.  
  
Her brother---literally by blood if not necessarily by genetics---squirmed, uncomfortably aware of Dr. Lambert's presence as she glared at the phone from across the room. He shrugged in apology.  
  
Natalie disliked DuCharme as a rival and he really couldn't blame her. Janette and he had had quite a history---they'd even been married once during the Renaissance and her 'divorcing' him after 97 years out of 'boredom' had left him demoralized for decades afterwards. She could be petty in her desires and ruthless in her revenge. But despite that and her later betraying his position to Lacroix almost a century earlier, he willingly kept their relationship open. She had been the reason he had embraced vampirism in the first place and he still loved her dearly despite having nearly lost all desire for 'the night life'. Along with flying, she sometimes made him think twice about his quest to regain his mortality.  
  
Unfortunately, he now also loved Natalie. Humane, warm, down-to-Earth Natalie with her quick sense of humor and acceptance of his 'drinking problem'---at least to desire to cure it. The very *human* Natalie that he yearned to have children with one day, but whom---he constantly reminded himself---his Beast could drain in a heartbeat if he lost control over it.  
  
Janette was two centuries his senior, set in her opinions, and quite willing to voice them ad nauseam to her brother. He'd better cut this short or she'd harangue him till dawn came!  
  
"Can we discuss this another time? Right now I need to speak with Merlin. Do you know where he is?"  
  
The seductive voice immediately turned anxious upon the mention of the name.  
  
["Merlin? Oh, Nicola! You are in trouble again, aren't you? Have you contacted Aristotle about choosing a new identity? Does Lacroix know? Or is it him you need to avoid? You know it's useless to run from him---he always finds you. However, there is this wonderful chateau located just outside Paris where we can--"]  
  
Nick switched the phone to his other ear while he did a fast 10 count. "No, Janette---and thanks, by the way, for the vote of confidence; however, I need Merlin's services for someone else."  
  
["Oh. A pity really... we could have moved on together. Paris is lovely this decade. Of course, Paris is lovely in any decade. How about we take a trip there for old times sake?"]  
  
"Janette!" Nicholas nearly exploded in exasperation. "Get Merlin? As in *tonight*?"  
  
["You were so much more fun during the early Renaissance, Nicola. Now you are always so stressed. It's that horrible diet, I suppose. And those humans you insist on congregating with." Deciding she'd toyed with her brother's mounting impatience long enough, Janette duCharme switched the subject. "But the one you seek is here right now, in fact. Finishing up with a contract. Hold on."]  
  
A few moments later another voice came over the phone.  
  
["Nicholas! It is a pleasure. Or is this---as your esteemed sibling intimated---a business call? What can I do for you, my friend?"]  
  
Merlin was another vampire named for his wizardry at the computer. He could hack into nigh well anywhere and create documents to full even the most cynical eye. Another, Aristotle, did this as well as finding placements for vampires who needed to 'move on' because of their never-changing appearances, but he was the common route for many vampires and the waiting list could be days. Merlin was a more pricy entrepreneur, but Nicholas could well afford his services.  
  
"I need you to set up an artificial history for someone. Also I'll need some i.d. cards for an immigrant from Norway." He gave the other vampire the specifics, spying out of the corner of his eye that Natalie had succeeded in cleaning up the digimon from the gummy effects of her culinary work...  
  
["I'll need a first name and a photo to do it.] Merlin told him. ["Afraid just 'Wizardmon' won't cut it with the authorities, you know. And shouldn't you pick something a little more subtle than such an odd moniker if this bloke of yours needs to hide his real identity?"]  
  
"Not really. This case is... kind of off the usual track. Hold on." Nicholas turned to the others in the room. "Nat, can I beg the use of your digital camera and laptop? Merlin's going to need Wizardmon's picture. Wizardmon, make sure you cover your mouth for the photo. And for an identity, how do you feel about having 'Sven' as a first name?"  
  
The digimon blinked while Natalie took out her new camera and checked its power supply, the coroner grumbling half-heartedly about how knowing Nick was getting her involved in yet more criminal activities as if faking morgue documents for vampire kills wasn't enough.  
  
"Lady Natalie," Wizardmon asked softly while the vampires talked some more over the phone, "what is a first name and why are they used? Digimon do not have such things. And is 'Sven' a good one to have?"  
  
The coroner coughed as she tried to figure out how to explain the origin of 'christian' names in twenty words or less to the earnest-looking monster before her.  
  
"Uh... There to help tell people of the same name apart to avoid confusion about who is being addressed. Just consider yourself 'Sven Wizardmon' when asked for your full name. Oh, by the way, better take off the hat, Sven," she chuckled, indicating the article in question, "That skull won't make a good impression on anyone in government." She adjusted the camera to frame his face in the lens after he removed the head gear. "Better cover the cloak pin with your hand. And try to look less sinister. Smile or something, okay? You're still looking like a mad scientist about to lecture the hero on how you're plotting to take over the world."  
  
Wizardmon grimaced at her remark. Take over the world, indeed! He was a Data, not some megalomaniacal Virus like Myotismon. Whatever would he do with an entire world? Bios---wasn't he having enough trouble dealing with his own affairs? He wasn't even sure of his own alias! 'Sven Wizardmon' It didn't sound like a proper digimon name. But then, he wasn't a proper digimon. Oh, sludge---he was supposed to be smiling for Natalie!  
  
Several minutes and almost a pack of wasted film later, they finally had a decent picture. Nicholas fed it through Natalie's internet mail program and sent it on its way to Merlin's.  
  
A short while later, Merlin's bemused voice came over the phone. ["You're kidding?"]  
  
"Nope."  
  
["This bloke looks like one of those 'monster' hosts on television who promote horror shows."]  
  
"Never mind what he looks like, Merlin. I just want nice, official-looking documents---he's not going for glamour work or a CEO position."  
  
["Well, it's your money."] Merlin chuckled a bit. ["Okay...this won't take long, but it's already too late to get together today. Where would you like to meet me?"]   
  
Nicholas agreed. Same-Day mail courier services could get the documents to him just as fast, but this was one of those things you simple didn't trust the humans with. Better to handle everything about the Community within the Community. "At the loft, tomorrow at sunset."  
  
["Not a problem."]  
  
That taken care of, Nicholas started to put away his cell phone away when it's digital Mozart theme alerted him to an incoming call. He flipped it back open.  
  
"Knight."  
  
["Nick, pard? I've got news."]  
  
It was Schanke sounding peeved about something.  
  
["You're not going to believe this, but Patterson has gone missing."]  
  
"What?" De Brabant hissed into the mouthpiece, eyes going golden. "How did he escape?"  
  
["Darned if we know. O'Keefe was on guard duty when he said he suddenly felt drowsy. Next thing he knew, Sam was gone. Cohen over here is breathing fire and fit to be tied. Man o man---you're lucky you're clocked off! Anyway, I thought you might like to know, seeing as your friend helped put him away in the first place. Patterson might be holding a grudge and try to hurt the little guy if he runs into him on the street again."]  
  
"Thanks for the word, Schanke. But I think he'll be okay for now. He's staying with Nat for the time being."  
  
[Natalie? Hehe… Better watch out Nick---the guy may not have your looks, but he outshines you in the charm department. Might be competition for you, pard."]  
  
"Can the matchmaker routine, Schanke," Nicholas growled, in no mood for Don's teasing just now. "You're no good at it!"  
  
["Hey, no need to unleash the Knightmare on me! Save it for the bad guys."]  
  
Running his hand through his hair, Nicholas sighed, thankful that his friend wasn't really there to see just how much of a Knightmare his coworker really was. He really had to do something about his temper.  
  
Eyes back to their original blue, he apologized for his outburst. "Sorry, Schanke. Just find Patterson, okay?"  
  
["Will do. See you tonight, Nick. And try to get some sleep. Dayshift'll get him back."]  
  
Frowning, De Brabant pocketed his phone, not needing to consult his wrist watch. Dawn was less than an hour away; despite his desire to fly over he really didn't have time to check in at work and see if he could find any clues the others had missed. Patterson's break out had sounded suspiciously like the work of a vampire. If only he could travel in the daylight!  
  
"If wishes were horses then men could fly. But what do you do when you already can but are grounded anyway?" he muttered to himself.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
He turned around to find that Natalie was very carefully readjusting an oral thermometer in Wizardmon's mouth---in consideration of what had happened to her dental mirror. The business end of a stethoscope was shoving aside the red vest material as its owner settled it over the heart area. The resigned look on the mage's face was almost comical.  
  
"Just bemoaning my similarities to Icarus and difficulties with the sun."   
  
"I always thought it was more like the Wicked Witch of the West's tendency to melt at the touch of water," she snorted in amusement.  
  
"Gee, thanks for emotional support---and it would be more like an implosion than melting."  
  
"You worry too much. Whatever it is that happened at work, I'm sure it will be okay. You're not the only competent detective there, you know." She frowned as Wizardmon swallowed, the slight movement affecting the position of the oral device in the wide mouth. "I knew I should have invested in the aural version of these things," Natalie muttered as she readjusted the thermometer. "Try not to move it around, Wizardmon. I don't know if mercury would hurt you, but let's not find out the hard way, hmmm?" She smiled as the digimon went absolutely stiff. Looking up as her friend came over to stand over them, she asked, "So, who's Patterson?"  
  
"The kid who knifed Wizardmon after robbing a street vendor. Schanke just called to tell me he's escaped custody."  
  
"A kid escaped from lockup?" Natalie asked with eyebrows raised. She smoothly pulled the thermometer from its precarious placement between two of the digimon's stitches and shook it, noting where the thin mercury within the glass came to a stop. "You can relax now, Wizardmon," she told the frozen wizard, "I'm all done. Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He huffed at her as he relaxed, but grudgingly nodded in agreement.  
  
"Yeah, he got free somehow" the former Crusader frowned. "And I don't like it. Patterson was into petty theft only---he doesn't have the kind of connections that would help him break out. Something feels wrong."  
  
Wizardmon's expression turned quizzical. He wasn't really concerned about running into the human again, but he could feel his friend's anxiety. "You think one of your kindred took him? That a vampire has him?"  
  
"I don't know. But O'Keefe is not prone to falling asleep on the job."  
  
"And you think this hypothetical vampire whammied him into taking an unscheduled nap," Natalie surmised. "Why go to all of that trouble to get a kid, though?"  
  
Instead of answering, Nicholas indicated the digimon. "What did you find?"  
  
Natalie frowned, realizing that he was purposely changing the subject. What was he afraid of?  
  
"Well, Nick, you might be surprised to know that 'Sven' here has a body temperature and a heartbeat that lands smack in the middle between a human's and a vampire's." She unplugged the stethoscope's ear piece from her head and put it back in its bag, wiping the thermometer thoroughly with disinfectant before putting it away as well. But then she reached for something else and a hypodermic appeared in her hand.  
  
"Now, Wizardmon, I just want--"  
  
The Data turned his head to regard her, catching the metallic glint of the needle out of the corner of his eye…  
  
And reality shifted as he…  
  
("Hey, Blondie!)  
  
…reacted…  
  
("Yeah, Lace Face! Present for ya!")  
  
…without thinking: knocked it away with an angry yell, sending the cylinder rolling several feet along the carpet. At the same time he leapt from his seat---body remaining in mid air---the zippers on each glove splitting open at the palm to reveal a golden glow from somewhere within.  
  
("Sleepy time!" The winged bat creature cackled at him as he whirled away, the needle missed his arm by a fraction of an inch to snag into his clothing instead of flesh.)  
  
"Hey!" Natalie called out in alarm as he jerked his arm away just as she was about roll up the sleeve on his arm.  
  
The demidevimon from Hall where he'd been 'initiated' into the Nightmare Army, the wizard immediately catalogued his opponent. A Rookie---but of a form known for deviousness and with the ability to fly as well. His main attack was a poisonous dart that could be deadly to younger digimon and even seriously incapacitate a Champion such as himself. He'd have to watch it or he could lose this fight. And if he lost to a mere 'child' digimon, he'd be lucky if Myotismon didn't delete him himself let alone be thrown out of the Nightmare Army---and his only chance to remain at Gatomon's side.  
  
("Hey, Lace Face... got eyes in back of your head, huh? Well, I'll get you anyway!")  
  
"Detecting you is easy. You think too loud and---just to be clear on it---I don't feel like sleeping while anywhere in your company."  
  
"Well, that's gratitude for you," Natalie huffed, not realizing he wasn't speaking to her.  
  
The image of the demidevimon before Wizardmon growled, producing another of his sophomoric Demi Darts. "A mind reader, are ya? Does the pussy cat know about that? Bet not. Bet too you think I'm nothing to be concerned about. Well, Blondie, you can't be alert all the time. ")  
  
"Alert enough. And the name is 'Wizardmon'. Now, go bother someone else, Demidevimon." Energy ball fully powered, he prepared to throw it.  
  
("Nah...I wanna bother you, Blondie.")  
  
Nicholas flew in front of him, blocking his aim.  
  
"Wizardmon, what are you doing? I won't allow you to hurt Nat!" He noted the other's glazed-over look with not a little worry.  
  
The image of a smirking Demidevimon became slightly less solid through the ghostlike form of the vampire. Wizardmon blinked at the subtle change, but did not alter his stance.  
  
("You should dump the kitty, freak. Switch allegiance to me. We could team up. Do things together Miss Pretty Eyes wouldn't dream of doing.") The bat leered at him.  
  
The offended mage glared at him. "I'd rather bathe in sludge…Now leave me alone or take this! Thun--!)  
  
"Look, if you're afraid of needles all you have to do is say so," an exasperated Lambert sighed as she stooped to retrieve the implement and check it for damage. She paled as a sphere of fiery energy flew over her head.  
  
De Brabant latched onto the digimon's arms and flew with him against the wall, pinning him there. "Wizardmon---stop it!"  
  
"The bastard tried a Dart Attack!" a furious Wizardmon snarled, trying to get around and free from Nicholas so that he could keep his palms between himself and the digimon ghost/human female at all times.  
  
"Who tried what?" both vampire and doctor exclaimed.  
  
"Demidevimon! I refused to switch allegiance to him over Gatomon---and he tried to take me while I was on watch duty!"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Nicholas tried again to get the wizard to make sense. "What's a dart attack?"  
  
"If he'd succeeded, I would have been called on shirking my duty or losing to a lower level digimon..." Wizardmon frowned behind his cowl, now totally in tune with the present as the last vestige of the past faded away. This was not Myotismon's castle. This was…  
  
"Nicholas? Lady Natalie? There was not a Dart Attack?" he asked in confusion.  
  
The medical examiner held up the hypodermic beside her face. "This is a syringe. It extracts liquid and holds it. I just wanted a blood sample so I can find out what makes you tick."  
  
"I'm a digimon. I don't 'tick'," Wizardmon retorted with as much dignity as he could muster considering how befuddled he felt. He struggled to center himself. The evil rat creature was still on Digital World. Why remember his second encounter with the slimy little ball of a digimon now?  
  
"It's an expression," Natalie explained in a deadpan voice, glancing at De Brabant who was still guarding her with his body. "If I can find out what you are made of, I can devise a nutritional routine as well as a medical one for you." She groaned at the molten lump that was all that remained of her table lamp. "Assuming you don't kill your friendly doctor first."  
  
The twin glows faded back into the gloves as the zippers closed. "Oh." Sheepishly, Wizardmon went limp in the other's grasp, but still eyed the needle nervously. "If you take blood from others, are you a vampire too?"  
  
"I've had occasionally wondered that myself," Nicholas somewhat ruefully chuckled. He let go of Wizardmon's arms, but stayed between his two friends just in case. "I think she's taken more blood from me than even Lacroix."  
  
At the evil look Natalie threw him as she pointed the hypodermic in his direction, De Brabant threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay---I recant. Don't abuse the vampire."  
  
"Don't compare me to that oily bastard again and I'll keep your research donations to 4cc," Natalie grinned. "Alright, the needle wasn't damaged, and fortunately the lamp was not a family heirloom so without further ado," she said, looking straight at Wizardmon who had the grace to look contrite, 'if you'll roll up a sleeve?"  
  
"My sleeve?" the digimon asked, his apprehension level jumping right back on its highest setting.  
  
"Comments from the peanut gallery aside, I am 100% human and prefer to suck up blood samples from an arm rather than a neck." So saying she took hold of one of the digimon's arms and began pushing upwards on the sturdy fabric.  
  
"Is this necessary?" Wizardmon asked, looking a bit panicked. "I'm really not fond of needles!"  
  
"Few people are but I promise this won't hurt but a little," the doctor smiled. "I thought you didn't have doctors. Why are you afraid of needles?  
  
"Bad history!" Wizardmon yelped as his lower sleeve was bunched up to allow her access to the appendage underneath.  
  
"Well, you can relax. I know what I'm doi--- Oh!"  
  
Underneath the yellowish fabric, a skeletal grayish-blue arm had come into view. Natalie was aghast.  



	20. Digimon Biology 101

Part 21: Digimon Biology 101  
  
"No wonder you're always hungry!" Lambert proffered the digimon's thin arm for Nicholas to see as if she believed its condition was somehow his fault. (Which, considering what she knew of his food-stocking abilities, she probably did.) "Nick---he looks at the point of starvation!"  
  
The jade eyes blinked in surprise. "Actually, I am feeling satisfied at this moment. Please do not distress yourself." He flexed his muscles. "See---there is nothing amiss, lady Natalie. Are you going to put away the needle now?" he asked hopefully, not anxious to be used as a pincushion no matter the reason.  
  
"Nothing amiss?" Natalie snorted at the magician. "How about some flesh on these arms?! I've seen pictures of Holocaust survivors that looked in better health. And are all these white markings natural? They look like whip scars."  
  
"Holocaust?" Wizardmon asked, his mind suddenly flooded with disturbing images of fire, sorrow and fear not his own. He tried to push the feelings back down, but they were hard to ignore and were starting to mix with his own terrors:  
  
Fire! Hurt! Struggle! Bat wings--Pain! Evil! Fight! Lights-Crash! Grief! Hide!  
  
He screwed his eyes shut and bit back a groan.   
  
"Did Myotismon do this?" Nicholas asked, touching one of the pale lines that crisscrossed each other.  
  
"Myotismon is that creep you said was like Lacroix, right Nick?" Natalie asked.  
  
"Um… sort of. Actually, I said that he was a megalomaniacal vampire, Nick answered, distracted by the feeling that something wasn't right.  
.  
"Same thing," she snarled, still holding the confused Wizardmon by the arm. "What a monster---whipping a child!"  
  
"Nat…" Nicholas cautioned, seeing that both of his friends were looking pretty strained and belatedly realizing what was wrong. Usually pretty even keeled, Natalie Lambert had suffered two major traumas in her life that had affected her deeply. One was her parents getting caught in a fateful car explosion. The other was the physical abuse suffered by an overly strict grandmother turned guardian. Wizardmon was already upset---now he was picking up Lambert's strong emotions and it wasn't helping. He laid a comforting arm around her shoulders and tried to separate them. But her grip felt like iron and he was worried that if he used adequate force, he might injure one or both of his friends.  
  
"Nat… it's okay. It's over. Just let it go."  
  
She apparently wasn't listening to him or seeing the effect she was having on the digimon.  
  
"Children aren't punching bags!" she spat.  
  
Keeping his voice soothing, Nicholas tried again to get through to the doctor.  
  
"Nat, he's not a child, okay? What happened between you and your grandma isn't being repeated here."  
  
"I know that!" Natalie snapped back. She threw her head back and counted to ten. Nick was right, but she wasn't ready to let go of the anger and pain quite yet: that someone that was supposed to have protected her could have hurt her so badly. Left her granddaughter as… What was that old expression? One of the Walking Wounded?  
  
"I thought all digimon wounds healed quickly?" she asked, seeking something safe to dwell upon.  
  
"No... They do! These are…a bit different." Wizardmon babbled out, answering their earlier questions in sudden rush. He yanked his arm back and gulped down two great draughts of air, hugging himself. With the direct contact between them broken, her turbulent emotions subsided to bearable levels within his mind.  
  
Bios---he'd always been perceptive to empathy before but never like since dropping into Nicholas' reality! And his nigh constant hunger---the ghost of which he could detect were slowly building up again… Could the two symptoms be related? Were they a side effect of his data being in an alien world as well--- or more empathizing with his friend's struggle with his blood lust?  
  
Undeterred and angry at this evidence of abuse---it didn't help that Wizardmon reminded her so much of a child, either! ---, Natalie felt down his lower leg. "At least you seem to have a substantial amount of bulk on your lower extremities, she said to herself as she pulled up on a pant's leg. "That could account for why you've been able to move around---"  
  
The coroner's eyes went wide as pie plates as her jaw slackened. She'd been preparing herself for more evidence of past violence, but…. Nothing had prepared her for this!  
  
"Nat?!" the vampire exclaimed as his human friend went unnaturally pale. He put his arms around her to keep her from toppling over. "Nat? What is it? What did you find?"  
  
Wordlessly, Dr. Lambert pointed a finger at the area where the digimon's jumpsuit had been pulled from his boot. The baggy material had fallen back down again, so Nick pushed it back up.  
  
Mother of God!  
  
There was nothing there but a swirling, pitch-black mist. Mechanically, he pushed the fabric up to the area where a knee should be. It was all mist; though the color was gradually changing to something closer to a mixture of bluish gray along with the receding ebony. With his superior eyesight, he could even make out as minute particles of the gas were slowly starting to clump together into a more solid form.  
  
The digimon, who had been about to make a run for it when Dr. Lambert had taken his leg in hand, frowned as curiosity overcame his reflective feelings of panic.  
  
"Is something wrong?" Wizardmon asked, concerned that both human and vampire's thoughts had gone totally chaotic like a television station whose signal had been suddenly cut off. He glanced around, but did not see anything that could account for their frozen demeanor.  
  
"Wizardmon...where are your legs?" Nicholas asked dry mouthed.  
  
"Right there, where they have always been. Why?"  
  
Natalie finally found her voice. "There's nothing there but a... a black cloud!"  
  
The wizard leaned over to see, frowning at his lower extremity. "Yes. It is darker now because of all your good food. I am really feeling almost my old self, thank you, Lady Natalie."  
  
"You're welcome," Natalie responded mechanically. She shook her head and tried to regain her sense of professional objectivity. "Tell me... are you... I mean... how far up..?"  
  
The digimon took a moment to think about it before answering, ""I am always solid to about here, if that is what you are asking;" Wizardmon used his gloved hand to indicate a level just below his rib cage. "When I am very hungry, more of me firms up."  
  
"Um..." De Brabant gulped, "Not that I would know myself, but shouldn't that be the other way around?"  
  
The jade eyes blinked gazed upon the vampire as the head tilted in a gesture of inquiry. "Should it? It has always been this way since my last digivolve into this level. In fact, being hungry is not only annoying, but dangerous as I can't fly then."  
  
"You mean being mostly comprised of heavy gases is healthy for you?" Natalie asked, trying to wrap her mind around the concept.  
  
"Yes... I suppose so. The sky has always been the place I feel most comfortable. To be anchored to the ground is not... as comfortable," he trailed off. "I am sorry, but it is hard to explain these things to another. But when I am with the air it's as if it becomes me and I, it. In the air I am at ease, for I do not feel so alone, yet I am above the chaotic thoughts of those on the ground." Long pause. "To be airborne is to be at peace with myself"  
  
Nick found himself nodding. "Yes. I feel the same way. It's as if the stars are talking just to you, and though your mind cannot understand them, your body does and the exhilaration of the communion..." Realizing he was talking aloud, De Brabant coughed. "Sorry."  
  
Wizardmon smiled. "No need.... I'm glad we share this; though you, Nick, are as tied to the earth as to the sky." He turned his smile to the woman. "Before I met Gatomon I had been flying a over a desert. It is harder to stay aloft when it's hot, and I allowed myself to stay up too long without eating. So caught was I in my own thoughts that I did not notice my growing heaviness until too late. I went plummeting downward to crash on a busy main street. It is a wonder I didn't land on anyone." He paused to offer a rueful smile. "Of course if I had, they might have actually taken notice of me."  
  
"Gatomon?" Natalie asked. "That sounds familiar. You were saying something like that when Nick brought you in."  
  
"She is a feline digimon."  
  
"She's your cat?"  
  
"No! I don't own Gatomon. It is the other way around!" Wizardmon stated vehemently, eyes fierce. Nick got ready to intervene again. The anger subsided quickly though as he saw that she meant no offense by her words. "Gatomon and I have a long and… troubled past. It seems that seeing your cat has triggered some of the more volatile memories of my past. I'm sorry that I've acted so… surly… and scared you and Nicholas. You've both been so kind. I've been a very poor houseguest, I'm afraid."  
  
"Don't worry about it. Nothing broken is irreplaceable."   
  
Wizardmon frowned, remembering those horrible days in Myotismon's army. If he'd acted this way with Myotismon the vampire would have deleted him without a thought.  
  
"Wait a minute," Natalie shook her head, "Back up a bit. You're saying you're the property of this Gatomon?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"She purchased you?"  
  
Wizardmon chuckled. "You could say that. Bought and paid for only the price of a drink of water. Quite a bargain, eh?"  
  
"That's terrible!"  
  
"Not to me."  
  
"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Natalie grimaced. "Slavery is evil."  
  
The mage's humor evaporated as jade eyes turned hard. "I agree. I hated seeing Gatomon subject to Myotismon's whims. And he would turn all of the Real World into his food larder as well? Evil indeed."  
  
"I don't understand you at all. You say you hated Myotismon's slavery---but are happy to be a slave to your Gatomon?"  
  
"You're right," Wizardmon sighed, "you don't understand. We were trapped into Myotismon's service by means of his power to kill us. That is not the servitude I'm speaking of with my friend. You see, Gatomon came when the noon day sun had driven everyone indoors. I was so hot! She gave me water and carried me to a secluded place to tend me in my weakness. It seemed a long while before I was strong enough to fly again. But that was okay, because I was able to learn about my new friend, Gatomon, before her evil master hid her memories away."  
  
"Myotismon," Nicholas explained to Natalie. "Is an evil vampire of Wizardmon's world who whammied Gatomon into thinking she was evil as well. Despite that, Wizardmon stayed with her, eventually sacrificing himself to see her free. What Wizardmon calls slavery in regards to himself, Nat, is actually voluntary indenture. Very much like what I did with Lacroix."  
  
"And look how that ended up!"  
  
Looking hurt, De Brabant shook his head. "Don't, Nat. At the time it was my choice as well. And I was very happy with the arrangement. Anyway, there are human cultures where the rescued becomes the life servant of his rescuer. It sounds like Wizardmon's case is no different from that."  
  
Wizardmon nodded. "I owe her all that I have, Lady Natalie. More so in that she herself did not request my service to help free her from the beast. It was my gift to her to give her that opportunity.. These were the only things I possessed that were close to being worthy---my breath, my strength, my time. It has been hard, I admit. For a long time she barely knew me. She even hurt me without blinking an eye. And then there were the others too---the rest of the Nightmare Army. I was new and not trusted, considered fair game for attack. As my commander, Gatomon gave me some protection, but… It was awful; however I had no ready way to free her or restore her memories as long as Myotismon was always near. And she held the right to delete me, both by Myotismon's decree and my own thinking. I had to be very, very, careful."  



	21. Love Walks On Cat Feet

Sorry for the long delays between posts!   
----------------------------------------   
  
Part 22: Love Walks On Cat's Feet   
  
"Ah..." the doctor realized, "so that's why you freaked when Sydney attacked you. Speaking of whom... I really should feed the poor guy." On cue, a loud cat wail came from the bedroom. Natalie cringed. "Sorry about this, honey!" she called back. "Mommy's getting you something now!" She got up to go get the feline a can of tuna as an apology for locking him up for so long.   
  
Wizardmon blinked. "Mommy? Is Sydney her child?" he asked of Nicholas, who shrugged.   
  
"Uh... sort of," he snickered. "It's a cat lover thing among humans. She's responsible for Sydney's welfare, and sometimes such a big responsibility can scramble an otherwise normal brain."   
  
Reappearing with tuna can in one hand and the forgotten bowl of milk in the other, Natalie stuck her tongue out at him.   
  
Wizardmon grinned at his friends teasing manner. "I think I can empathize, being inflicted with something of the same malady with Gatomon." His expression turned pensive. "Do you think I can see your Sydney again? I promise not to get 'freaked'."   
  
"If you want and Syd doesn't mind."   
  
  
Sydney was hiding under the bed, when Natalie coaxed him out. The cat eyed both vampire and digimon warily as Natalie dumped the tuna on a small saucer for him. The cat's attention was immediately sidetracked. Smiling as her companion gobbled down the fish, the coroner held out the bowl of milk towards Wizardmon.   
  
"Here's your chance to show you two have a common interest. Syd's a sucker for anyone who'll feed him."   
  
"I... um..."   
  
The bowl was unceremoniously placed into his gloved hands.   
  
Feeling a bit intimidated, Wizardmon got down on the floor, holding the bowl on the carpet at full arm's length. Natalie tsked at him and replaced it in his lap along with Sydney. Wizardmon froze as the striped cat sniffed at his clothing.   
  
"Nat?" Nicholas warned. Maybe Wizardmon wasn't ready for this. What if Sydney took a dislike to the digimon?   
  
Natalie saw her friend's anxiety on his face and guessed the reason.   
  
"Don't worry. Cats know cat people---it's an instinct. They'll be fine." She whispered to him, "Besides, I put a drop of catnip extract in the milk."   
  
"You've the makings for a wicked woman, Miss Lambert."   
  
She stifled a giggle. "I know."   
  
Sure enough, after a few seconds of inspecting her new 'food dispenser', Sydney settled down to lapping up the white liquid with gusto. The magician waited until it was almost gone before he tentatively used one hand to pet the soft fur. The supple back arched under his touch, tail waving about as a strong purr was heard. Lifting her head, Sydney rubbed his cheek against the digimon's blue.   
  
Wizardmon was ecstatic.   
  
"He likes me?!"   
  
"You're warm, soft and accommodating his considerable hedonistic desires. So what's not to like?" Natalie pointed out with a soft laugh. "I hope you don't mind being covered in cat hair for the rest of your stay."   
  
  
  
After washing up and making sure all her windows were well covered against any intruding daylight, Natalie spread a sheet over her couch for Nick to sleep on. For Wizardmon she took various chair cushions and arranged them into a makeshift mattress. Sydney tried to appropriate it, but Natalie scooped him up. "Oh no you don't, Sydney. These two need their sleep, so you're coming with me."   
  
"I hope you have a good rest," she told the digimon as she tucked him in. "This afternoon I'll drive you down to Don's---if you still wish to go?"   
  
"I gave my word, Lady Natalie. Why would I wish not to keep it? Trust me that everything will be fine."   
  
An unconvinced Natalie just nodded, then sidled up to Nick before he could test out his own napping accommodations.   
  
"You know, you two are so much alike that it's beginning to scare me. Good night, Nick."   
  
"Technically, it should be 'good day', Nat."   
  
A tired Dr. Lambert threw him a raspberry as she retreated into her bedroom to catch a few hours of shut eye.   
  
Turning around to face the couch, Wizardmon said. "You were right, Nick, she is a nice human. And she likes you a lot. You should live together since you complement each other so well."   
  
De Brabant wished they could. However there was the little matter of his inner Beast wishing to drain her dry whenever they got too close. That and the fact that Lacroix would never allow him to express his love to anyone other than another vampire made him keep humans at arm's length. For all intents and purposes, she was the Juliet to his Romeo---but he didn't feel like explaining all that to the mage just now.   
  
"Go to sleep, Wizardmon," Nicholas sighed, and turned off the table lamp.   
---------------------------   
  
  
(The Past: Myotismon's castle)   
  
"Wizardmon?"   
  
He breathed in sharply, straightening up as she approached. He was in terrible pain and wanted nothing more than to go to bed and heal as he rested. Seeing the business-like expression Gatomon held, he knew he wasn't going to get it. So much for that thought.   
  
"Yes, commander?"   
  
Gatomon looked up at him with eyes hard as blue diamonds. "Lord Myotismon wishes for a report on the northern boundary defenses. You will fly me there."   
  
Wizardmon bit back his groan of dismay, giving only a deferential nod, "As you wish."   
  
He used his magic to fly them both to the Bakemon post, leaning against a tree in order to catch his breath as he waited for her to finish her inspection. That done and the feline apparently satisfied with what she saw, Gatomon leapt up into his arms, ready for him to take her back to the castle so that she could deliver her report.   
  
Silently, Wizardmon rose into the air, his left arm cradling the cat safely against his chest despite the fierce stabbing pains that action was causing.   
  
Pain or no----on no account would he drop her! And it wasn't very far now. Almost...   
  
Wizardmon was over half-way back to the castle before the pain he'd been trying to suppress became unbearable and he suddenly lost altitude. A quick tuck and roll ensured that Gatomon was uninjured by the fall, but the same could not be said for him. He lay gasping for air where he'd hit the earth, trying get his vision to stop swirling. His rib cage felt like it was caught in a vise.   
  
"Wizardmon---are you okay?!" Gatomon asked as she stood above him, looking for the attacker that had struck him right out of the sky.   
  
There was no one.   
  
"Yes… No. Not really," the mage gasped out. "Please do not be angry, just give me a minute and I will get you back to Myotismon."   
  
Turning to face him, Gatomon noticed an additional redness on his suit that was very slowly spreading outward.   
  
"You're bleeding," she informed him.   
  
He was? Sludge! Hitting the ground must have undone his quick mending spell.   
  
"Probably just a scratch. I'll take care of it after we get--- Uh… What are you doing?!"   
  
Gatomon had his vest shoved upwards and was tugging open his jumpsuit's main zipper before the mage could stop her.   
  
"Commander, please!" he objected.   
  
"Be still!" she hissed at him. Soft paws caressed his skin as they pulled the yellow fabric sideways to expose a long cut and dark bruise across his ribs. The wound was bleeding--- but not dangerously so.   
  
"You're rib is likely broken and that is a nasty gash. Why didn't you tell me that you'd been injured to such an extent that it has not even healed properly?"   
  
"You needed a ride," he explained as she used some leaves to make him a pillow. I thought it could wait."   
  
"And just how did you get hurt in the first place?"   
  
"Nothing important."   
  
"I asked you a question!"   
  
"Merely a scuffle with Musymon."   
  
"About?"   
  
Darn, but she did have a tenacious spirit!   
  
"You know how Musymon is. He didn't need a reason. Or at least, he didn't relate it to me."   
  
"I see." Gatomon absently raked a fang over her lower lip. "Don't worry about Musymon---he will be taken care of."   
  
"Please, Gatomon. Let me fight my own battles. I'd rather face Musymon's knife than Myotismon's displeasure. You know how he feels about digimon who don't fight."   
  
"Okay," the feline agreed, albeit reluctantly. "But you need to rest before we go on."   
  
He shook his head. "No. You need to give your report before dawn or Myotismon will be angry at you. I can fly." He started to prop himself up.   
  
She pressed down on the part of his chest that was not damaged until he was flat on his back again, lightly touching the wound when he still resisted the wordless command to lie still. Wizardmon gasped at the tremor of pain she'd caused and did not try to move again.   
  
"Alright… You win."   
  
He lay submissively as she cleaned the wound with a clean rag from his pocket and some water from a nearby stream, taking his mind off of what she was doing by contemplating the star-filled sky showing through the trees.   
  
Perhaps his fall was an act of serendipity after all, Wizardmon mused. Alone and without distractions or the vampire's powerful presence, he could try again to reach her buried memories.   
  
"Gatomon…" he began softly, "Do you ever wonder… what it would be like if you'd never met Myotismon?"   
  
"Never met him?" she frowned, "Why would I think about that?"   
  
"I don't know. I was just thinking about my past and how it might have been different if I'd been somewhere else and that made me think about you as well. For instance, what if we had met in a desert town?"   
  
"A desert town?" Gatomon's laugh was loaded with sarcasm. "That sounds like fun. Lots of sun and sand and windstorms." She looked thoughtful as she repeated the last word to herself. "You know, it's funny… but I can almost see you---"   
  
"Gatomon!"   
  
The digital cat hissed as she recognized her master's voice calling for her. She was about to respond when she remembered Wizardmon. *Bleeding* Wizardmon.   
  
"I'll draw him away," Gatomon reassured him as she quickly threw a few leafy branches over him for camouflage.   
  
Wizardmon listened from beneath his cover as she loped away, but she didn't get very far before Myotismon was landing before her. He perked up his ears to hear what was said.   
  
"GATOMON! Why didn't you answer?" the vampire asked as she leapt out to greet him.   
  
"My lord," the Vaccine bowed, "we were ambushed by a… kwagumon. Wizardmon was injured fighting it off."   
  
"I smell blood… it carries the essence of the Data wizard," the vampire said in an impatient tone. "Where is your companion, commander? Why is he not with you?"   
  
"I left him behind." Gatomon shrugged as Wizardmon's fate was of no great consequence to her. "He couldn't fly until his wounds healed and staying with him would delay my report to you. The blood you smell is indeed his." She looked at her paws, making a gesture of distaste with her tongue. "I must have not cleaned it off of myself very well."   
  
"And your report?"   
  
"Northern border is quiet, sir. Shall I go back and fetch the wizard or send the Bakemon with a pallet?"   
  
"Neither."   
  
"Sir?"   
  
"Go back to the castle and make sure DemiDevimon is not getting into any mischief. I will be returning shortly."   
  
There was the sound of Gatomon moving away and then a long silence.   
  
Wondering if it was safe to move, Wizardmon quietly shifted some of the vegetation aside.   
  
Myotismon was there smiling down at him with his bared fangs.   
  
"Good Evening, Wizardmon."   
  
Wizaarrrdmooonnn…   
  
Wizaarddddmoooonnn…   
_________________________   
  
TBC


	22. Unusual Happenings

Part 23: Unusual Happenings   
  
(Downtown Toronto)   
  
In an abandoned store front, Samuel Patterson slowly awoke and took in his dust-laden surroundings, the morning sunlight streaming through broken windows. "Wha--?" His 'apprentice' quickly appeared at his side, helping him up and giving him some water. "Joey? What happened?"   
  
"We busted you out."   
  
Sam coughed as he swallowed some of the water the wrong way. He was the leader! It was his right to pick any new recruits! "Whose 'we'?" he grumbled at the Hispanic boy.   
  
"Me and the new boss." Martinez said, sounding not at all happy about it.   
  
"What are you talking about?" Patterson started to growl before he heard the flapping noise, "Says... oh. Oh--freakin'!" The thing had to be a drug-induced nightmare!   
  
Flying practically into the boy's face, enormous orange eyes looked onto the frightened high schooler's.   
  
"Welcome to my command, human," Demidevimon cackled. "Hmm… not much to look at, are you? I hope you were worth the trouble. Now... tell me everything you know about Wizardmon and the human named Schanke. Where can I find them?"   
  
Patterson shrieked as the smirking monstrosity latched onto his chest.   
  
------------------------------   
(Upscale Toronton neighborhood)   
  
At his home, Merlin opened the file that housed his program for creating false identification documents for all over the world. As he had told Nicholas, this would not take long at all---he'd finish it before going to bed. Most of his contracts who were able to pay his fees desired identities that also included property and other holdings of wealth. Whenever you had such accompaniments, the government agencies in question were more likely to take an interest.   
  
But apparently this 'Sven Wizardmon' did not desire such material things, so the documents could be fairly basic.   
  
"Let see… new file. First name: Sven. Last name: Wizardmon. Point of origin: Norway. He'll need a passport, immigration..." the dark-haired vampire clicked on the things he would need to work with, fully engrossed in his 'hobby'.   
  
Suddenly the screen went blank, catching Merlin by surprise.   
  
What the heck? He'd just put in a new power pack only a quarter of an hour ago! And his own, personally created anti-crash software should have prevented such an occurrence from even happening in the first place.   
  
"Wizardmon?!" an excited voice erupted from his speakers.   
  
"Damn!" Ears ringing, Merlin hastily toned down the volume.   
  
Had a hacker broken into his computer? Impossible! He wasn't even on link with the Net.   
  
The computer expert frowned as he punched various keywords into his laptop and made sure he was indeed offline from the internet, his modem inactive. There was a bright blip on his screen, jumping up and down like the ball in the original Pong game. "What is this? Some sort of Trojan virus?"   
  
"Stupid 3rd rate… Virus?" The male voice sounded put out. "I assure you, I am not associated with that caste! ...You can't be Wizardmon. With whom am I speaking?"   
  
Merlin grinned. Haephastus! He'd run across some sort of intelligent program. Fascinating! Wait until he showed the members of his computer club this!   
  
'I wonder where I could possibly have picked this up from?' he thought to himself. (As with his anti-crash software, his anti-virus programs were also of his own design and until now at least, had proven impenetrable.)   
  
The disembodied voice broke into his thoughts.   
  
"Where is Wizardmon? If you know, you must tell me! I've sent out search probes for his data signature everywhere. There is an urgent message he must deliver."---static crackle---"Please connect us post haste!"   
  
"Now wait a minute," Merlin began, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. As amazing as this was in itself, there was the matter of client confidentiality. He had a reputation to uphold. Not to mention the fact that De Brabant would personally see him staked for the next coming dawn if he brought harm to someone the older vampire wanted to protect.   
  
"There is no time to waste," the voice said impatiently. "The Digital World and the Real are in great danger... well, maybe not *your* Real World, but it's a rather nice place and--"   
  
There was a loud squeal from Merlin's speakers despite his having the volume on 'low'.   
  
"...Bios! Our connection window is disintegrating. Stupid, cheap modem---- Why Azulongmon won't okay an upgrade! Are you still there? I can't hold it open much longer. You must tell Wizardmon to find a suitable portal then reconnect with me on this transmission line."   
  
"Wait, what is your code name?" Merlin asked as he hastily had his system save all information. "How did you create a connection link--?"   
  
" ..I'm... Gennai. ..Destined... Gatomon needs--" The transmission became nothing but static.   
  
His opened file for one 'Sven Wizardmon' blipped back onto his screen. Merlin tapped frantically at his keyboard, ran a diagnostic, but nothing brought the voice back. He closed down the file and leaned back into his chair to think.   
  
"Digital World… What a provocative name." Sounded like a hi-tech business or organization. The vampire started his ISP and brought his internet search program up, typed the phrase in.   
  
"Search Inquiry: No 'Digital World' found."   
  
Next he tried the other names mentioned by the voice, using every possible spelling. Nothing came up beyond a few personal pages and other innocuous flotsam. He couldn't even find anything pertinent by hacking into various international security files.   
  
That was it. There was only one thing to do if he wanted a solution to this tantalizing mystery.   
  
Closing his laptop, Merlin went to phone the current Toronton Ancient. If anyone knew what the Belgian vampire was mixed up in, it would be his Roman master, Lacroix.   
  
-----------------------------   
(At Nat's apartment)   
  
"Wizaarrrrdmmmonnn…"   
  
Oh no! He's sent Grisly Wing at Gatomon and Kari! Can't let it reach…THEMaaah--!   
"Wizardmon!"   
Oh, System---it hurts! I never believed anything could hurt this bad.   
"Please don't die!"   
Kari? Where is Gatomon? Is she safe?   
"Please don't die!"   
It's so dark…Myotismon's attack must have blinded me. This feels all wrong, but I can't see. I'm not even sure if my thoughts are being broadcasted out, I'm so weak. And I don't feel Gatomon's presence. Kari, Kari, if you're still there and can hear me please tell me she is all right! I've failed her so much in the past… I want my death to have done some good.   
"Please don't die!"   
I'm so sorry, I don't want to. But I am, aren't I? It hurts, Kari. My data is starting to break up and I can't hold it much longer. Where is Gatomon? I want to say goodbye.   
"Please don't die!"   
Kari?   
Gatomon---please don't die!"   
Gatomon? Gatomon!   
NO!   
  
"No---"   
  
Gasping, Wizardmon jerked awake. He lay there amidst the twisted sheets for several seconds, just trying to calm down.   
  
It had been just a nightmare---Gatomon and Kari had survived when he'd made the vampire bats' attack center on him alone. That his subconscious would recreate a slightly twisted version of his death was, he supposed, to be expected considering the brutality of Myotismon's attack. But it worried him that he'd dreamed that Gatomon had been dying as well. If only he could get home and know her fate for sure!   
  
Troubled, the digimon looked over to the couch where his friend lay.   
  
  
De Brabant growled in his sleep.   
  
A maddened Raleigh was in chains, the largest rat Nicholas had ever seen nipping and taunting his companion. Snarling, Nicholas threw himself at the rodent. It vanished, but so did his dog, falling into a hole in the ground. Desperately, he grabbed for one of the chains before it could disappear as well, using all of his might to keep the rottweiler from falling completely. He wondered why Raleigh was not trying to climb back up, and then noticed the white cat at the bottom of the shaft. Raleigh was actually trying to reach it, but the chain was too short! If the dog continued in his quest, Nicholas would never get him out again. Hell, he'd be dragged in himself! Muscles tensing from the strain, he called down for Raleigh to climb back up before it was too late. Scraping noises from behind him. The rat was back. It gathered itself to leap upon him, teeth wet with thick saliva...   
  
"Nick?"   
  
The vampire reacted violently at being suddenly awakened, bearing his fangs at the trespasser. Fortunately, his more human awareness also kicked in mere seconds later and reigned in the instinctual desire to attack.   
  
Blinking away the last of his dream, Nicholas turned over to see Wizardmon anxiously leaning over him.   
  
"You shouldn't wake me like that, you know. My Beast tends to react before I do. What's up?"   
  
Wizardmon shrugged. "You were talking in your sleep to someone named Raleigh and you didn't sound happy."   
  
"Ah…" De Brabant rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was very hard to stay awake during the daylight. Not as bad as when he'd been a fledgling, but the vampire yearned for sleep's oblivion. "Just a nightmare, Wizardmon. I get them now and then. I've got a lot of years of memories to provide fodder for them." He looked rueful. "Though… I must admit of late they have gotten weirder. Sorry to have woken you."   
  
"I was awake already," the mage admitted.   
  
Nicholas gave him a lopsided smile.   
  
"Not much for sleep, eh?"   
  
"I..." Wizardmon looked downwards as he absently scratched the side of his neck. "I don't normally sleep well since Myotismon bit..." He shook his head.   
  
"Yes?"   
  
Wizardmon sighed. "You are not alone in your affliction of memories."   
  
Nicholas smiled. "Nat keeps a better selection of goods than I do. Will a warm glass of milk help you sleep?"   
  
"Milk? Isn't that..?"   
  
"Oh. Yeah, that's right. An animal product… I forgot." Rubbing his eyes, De Brabant studied his digital companion. He looked tired and troubled. Nine to ten it had something to do with his feline friend back in the Digital World. "Never mind. Isn't there a spell or something you can use to get a good day's sleep?"   
  
Wizardmon became introspective as he thought on his past attempts to cure insomnia--- a malady that had plagued him quite a bit during his time living in the Viral digimon's castle. Not only did he have attacks from the other Nightmare Soldiers to worry about, but something in Myotismon's initial bite had disrupted his code processes ever afterwards with vague dreams and a sense of… something. It was as if the Virus had infected him with an infinitesimal part of his data and it was warring with his own, trying to supplant the one or maybe bind the two together. The effect was just enough to keep him on edge. Saliva introduced from the 'welcoming mark' no doubt. And reinforced by every goring thereafter.   
  
Yet why had none of the others complained of this 'side effect' since all of Myotismon's hired hands had been bitten at least the once? During his time as a volunteer healer for the motley group, he'd asked about it and all he had gotten back were strange looks that wordlessly said he was nuts.   
  
"When I was under Myotismon and felt that the darkness around him was in my room and closing in upon me, I sometimes slept upon the Devidramon statues."   
  
"Deviwhatmon..?"   
  
"Dramon." The mage corrected. "They are Viral Champion beasts Myotismon uses to pull his carriage. Very big brutes with wings, claws, and fearsome teeth. When he didn't need their services, they took the form of stone statues that guarded the castle." Wizardmon gave him smile of embarrassment on what he was about to confide. Not even Gatomon knew of this bit! "It was a sort of mental trick I played on myself, you see? Nothing bad could harm me while I slept upon them without also risking waking the Devidramon." He shrugged. "Not particularly logical I admit, but it worked very well even with the threat that Myotismon might have found his underling making a mattress of his sentinels."   
  
"So… What you're saying is that you need dangerous beasts around to chase the bad dreams away?" Nicholas smirked.   
  
"Unless you can find me a Tapirmon," the wizard looked downcast, but there was an angry glint to his eyes.   
  
"And that would be another monster?"   
  
Wizardmon gave a sad shake of his head.   
  
"Not as you're thinking. Tapirmon are harmless Datas like me. They eat bad dreams."   
  
"Sounds like a nice thing to have around," Nicholas opined, "especially during a nightmare."   
  
"Digimon," Wizardmon corrected him. "We are not things."   
  
"Sorry."   
  
"Tapirwoman," the Data sniffed. "Sometimes they are good to be with. Sometimes not."   
  
The wizard still looked angry, but the vampire sensed it was not aimed at him.   
  
"Ah. Something tells me there is a story behind that glare," Nicholas observed.   
  
Wizardmon blinked as if he had momentarily forgotten the vampire was there. "Yes. However, it is not one I wish to tell."   
  
"Oh?"   
  
"It does not have a happy ending."   
  
"Wizardmon, would this have anything to do with your nearly frying Nat earlier?"   
  
Closing his eyes, the digimon shuddered. "I'm sorry. It was not your friend I wanted to incinerate."   
  
"Who, then?"   
  
"An hallucination. I relived a rather unpleasant conversation with a foul creature named Demidevimon. He thought himself a rival for Gatomon's position and tried to recruit me in return for his favor, thinking I would agree since I had---as an ugly digimon a… lacking of other prospects?" Wizardmon snorted. "I wasn't interested. I think he got insulted that even 'the freak' turned him down. After that there was sort of a war between us that lasted until he 'got his shot in'. After that there was a truce until Gatomon found Kari and I denounced Myotismon, though I have no doubt he would have cheerfully stabbed me in the back if I didn't watch him. Demidevimon is obsessed with serving Myotismon and I imagine was dancing with glee at my death."   
  
"Well," De Brabant yawned, "since Toronto is fresh out of Devidramon or Tapirmon, and seeing as I can't buy you an attack dog until tonight, will sleeping with this monster do?" He indicated his self. "Maybe my bad dreams will prove to be afraid of digimon and yours will be afraid of Earth-grown vampires." He sleepily lifted the top sheet in invitation.   
  
After a moment's consideration, Wizardmon took him up on the offer, carefully climbing in to lay his head on top of the other's chest. The vampire was already fast asleep before the digimon settled himself.   
  
Nicholas was not a warm-blooded being, but that was just fine with Wizardmon as the coolness only served to further remind him of the sense of safety he'd found in the stone Devidramon.   
  
With a sigh of contentment, the Data Champion joined the vampire in the sweet oblivion of dreamless slumber.


	23. The Party

Part 24:   
  
After awakening at Dr. Lambert's touch, Wizardmon and she had quietly departed   
her place and driven towards where the Schanke's residence was located with only   
a quick stop so that the digimon could stuff himself on a large vegetarian pizza   
and side order of pasta.  
  
The detective's place wasn't hard to miss as it was the only one on the block   
festooned with colorful balloons. When they pulled into the driveway out stepped Don Schanke, dressed in a a white chef's hat   
and a "Kiss the Barbeque Artist" apron that was soiled by several grease spots   
as well as several large wet marks.  
  
"Hey, there!" he greeted them cheerfully, flashing them the spatula in his hand.   
"I was getting worried you weren't going to show, Mr. Wizardmon." Schanke looked   
grimly back to his house where several kids could be seen running around from   
the back and attacking each other with water pistols. "The natives are already   
restless; I don't think I'll be needing to water the lawn today, the little   
monsters have pretty much soaked everything but the grill, thank heaven."  
  
"Hi, Schanke," Natalie grinned back, "So they've been keeping you busy, eh?"  
  
Don grimaced, "It's like a bloody, undeclared war! I had an easier time when I   
was still a beat cop."  
  
"Hello, Mr. Schanke," Wizardmon said from the passenger seat where he was   
struggling to get the seat belts off.  
  
How did these things work?!  
  
The detective chuckled as he saw him struggling with the locking device. "I hope   
'escape artist' isn't one of your specialties," he quipped.  
  
Wizardmon sighed and looked downcast. "It is not."  
  
Schanke exchanged glances with Natalie, who shrugged. She leaned over and   
applied the necessary touches to get the stubborn locks to release and Don went   
around the door to open it for him. Wizardmon noticed his apron and looked up at   
the detectives face with a bemused expression.  
  
Don grimaced in mock sterness as he shook his spatula at the wizard. "Don't get   
any ideas, mister! The only ones who kiss this cook are his wife and kid!"  
  
Wizardmon allowed a wicked chuckle to escape from his mouth, but hopped to the   
grass without trying anything. No sooner was the digimon out of the vehicle than   
he was spotted by some of the children. They rushed over, a motley gaggle of wet   
and grass-stained prepubescent hoodlums ready to accost this outlandish newcomer.  
  
"Radical outfit!"  
"Are you supposed to be some sort of magician?"  
"I can't stand balloon animals; there better not be any or I'll pop 'em!"  
  
The last child---a boy of about nine and large for his age---loomed over the   
wizard with arms crossed in challenge.  
  
Meeting the other's eye, Wizardmon brought his hands together into a ball shape   
and breathed some words. When he started to separate his hands several red   
balloons appeared between the leather gloves. With a few deft twists and more   
words the balloons had attained the shape of a fiery, rubbery, Phoenix bird in   
the wizard's hand.  
  
"Go ahead and pop it."  
  
Frowning, the boy produced a pin from his pocket and did just that, smiling when   
the balloon made the customary 'bang!' noise that all such structures emitted   
when so introduced to a sharp object. His glee was short lived, however, when the 'popped' balloon refused to deflate as expected  
but kept its shape.  
  
"Uh..."  
  
The child took a half step back, his expression a study in confusion.  
  
None the less amazed by the Phoenix's refusal to die, Schanke performed his own   
magic trick by confiscating the pin and making it disappear into his pocket. "I   
think I'll take possession of that, Harold; its bit dangerous of a thing to be   
waving around."  
  
"Uh," Harold repeated, still trying to figure out why the balloon animal refused   
to become a mere scrap of red garbage as it should. He gave up when he saw that   
the others were already following the adults and the odd little man to an open   
area of grass that had been reserved for the entertainer's use.  
  
Don's wife, Myra, came out of the house bearing trays of cookies which she   
passed around the eager children once they'd taken seats on the lawn. She passed   
one to Wizardmon as well, who thanked her---and with a wink, flipped it so that   
it arched gracefully in the air to fall back between the brim of his hat and top   
of his cowl.  
  
"Delicious! Thank you, dear lady. You are certainly an grand artist on the   
canvas of good cooking."  
  
Myra blushed and giggled a little as she gave him another before she went over   
to stand with her husband and Natalie who were watching on the 'sidelines'.  
  
"Wherever did you find such a sweet man?"  
  
"Oh… he just sort of 'appeared' in the city," Natalie said airily. "He's a   
friend of Nick's."  
  
"Well, you can bring him by to visit anytime---and Don, don't eat all those by   
yourself!" she declared as she went to restock the food table. Donald guiltily   
put back half of the handful of cookies he'd swiped.  
------------------------------------------  
  
Boosted by occasional food gifts courtesy of Myra, Wizardmon spent the next 45   
minutes performing simple acts of magic for his audience.  
  
He was enjoying himself immensely.  
  
The only alteration that would have made the event better would have been if   
Nicholas had been able to watch as well, but the open sunlight had nixed any   
possibility of the vampire attending.  
  
There was one thing though that the mage was concerned about. It wasn't anything   
major--- just the niggling feeling that it was more than just his known audience   
watching his every move. Perhaps it was only some of the neighboring humans?  
  
"For my next trick, I will require the use of a large box." Wizardmon nodded   
towards Don, who handed his doughnut to Myra before going to the side of the   
house to get a metal box that he had brightly painted in advance for the magic show.  
  
The detective hefted the sturdy cubicle, mumbling under his breath that those   
kids must have worn him out more than he'd thought since he hadn't remembered it   
being quite this heavy before. He then carried it over to where Wizardmon was   
waiting and set it down before walking back to his wife and waiting doughnut.  
  
"Man, oh man," do I ever need this!" he chuckled, taking a bite out of the   
chocolate pastry.  
  
Wizardmon, meanwhile, had started the customary magician's line of how this was   
an ordinary box made of unextraordinary materials and was, of course, quite   
empty. Taking hold of the lid, he prepared to lift it to prove the latter to   
everyone. The hinged flap acquiesced to his desire---  
  
And lifted to show a pair of luminous eyes peered up at him with malicious glee.  
  
"Wizardmon, I got you now, you---!"  
  
The data mage hastily flung down the steel lid and held it that way with his   
arms while he sat on it.  
  
DIGI-SLUDGE!  
  
His alarm was not lost on Natalie, who quickly sprang forward to see what the   
matter was. The problem quickly became apparent when the sharp point of a   
hypodermic rammed up through the lid, narrowly missing Wizardmon's hand.  
  
What the hell?  
  
"It's Demidevimon," Wizardmon hissed in a low voice. "That little creep I told   
you about!"  
  
"How…?"  
  
That's what he'd like to know! the mage's mind raced to think of possibilities.  
  
"I don't know, but we have to get him away from these humans!" He rearranged his   
hold just in time to avoid another needle. He could read where the imp was going   
to strike next, but that wouldn't help once the box became so riddled with holes   
Demidevimon simply ripped through it!  
  
Spinning around towards their hosts and the kids, Natalie offered them all a   
weak smile while Wizardmon bore the box towards Natalie's car as quickly as he   
could. "Er… We seem to be having some technical… difficulties with the equipment   
and have to cut this short. Sorry!"  
  
"Natalie?" Don asked as they shouldered by him.  
  
"Sorry, Schanke, Myra, can't chat now! Gotta go!"  
  
They'd made it to the car when two teenagers appeared from behind the vehicles   
and grabbed Dr. Lambert. Wizardmon skidded to a halt as he recognized the   
youths. This was bad. If he let go of the box to summon his magic and aid her,   
then Demidevimon would get out and start attacking.  
  
This couldn't be coincidence. The evil little so-and-so must have recruited the   
kids to help him!  
  
"Hey, freak," Samuel Patterson said as he held a knife to Natalie's ribcage,   
"Why don't you let go of the box you've got there?" Joey Martinez grinned and   
smacked his brass-knuckled hands together.  
  
"I have a better idea," Schanke said as he trained his gun on the teenagers. His   
other hand held a cell phone which was open. "Why don't YOU put down the knife   
while we wait for the backup I've already called for?"  
  
"Oh, shit!" Patterson cursed as he debated whether to surrender or not. He saw the   
cop's wife herding the other younger kids into the house.  
  
Wizardmon didn't wait, but took the opportunity to sit on the box to keep it   
closed while he used his magic to disarm the boys. Unfortunately, he couldn't   
change his position in time to avoid the latest stab from his prisoner and felt   
the poison enter his system.  
  
Damn.  
  
"Nataliiieeee…."  
  
Natalie delivered Patterson a swft kick to the shins before she ran over to the   
slumping Wizardmon. While Schanke was distracted, Martinez made a run for it.  
  
"Hey---freeze! Ah, hell! Nat?"  
  
Natalie waved for him to go ahead and give chase while she checked on Wizardmon.  
  
"Paraaalysssiiisss," Wizardmon slurred. "Oouut frrr howrrrsss… msst rrrnn."  
  
Natalie nodded as she hefted him up and ran for her car, thankful for the little   
electronic device that allowed her to open her doors at a push of a button. She   
pushed Wizardmon in just as a darkish ball of a creature broke out of the box   
and flew at the open door. The doctor shut it in the thing's face. It growled at   
her as she started the car and drove off, the hideous creature clinging   
tenaciously to the car antennae.  
  
She got two blocks before her trusty Taurus sputtered and stalled.  
  
After several attempts, she gave up trying to start the engine----Patterson or   
Martinez must have sabotaged her car!  
  
On the other side of the windshield, Demidevimon cackled at her situation,   
scratching the hood's paint job as he danced a victory jig.  
  
"Give it up, lady! Just give me old Raggedy Ass there and I'll leave you be!"  
  
Natalie gave him the finger as she found her cell phone and hit a pre-dial   
button.  
  
A sleepy Nicholas answered.  
----------------------------------------------------------  
End of Part 24  
  
Yeah, not my best but its been so long and I wanted to get *something* out! 


	24. Cellphones and other useful gadgets gott...

Under the circumstances, I've decided to heck with proofreading. -_-;; I'm lucky to just a get chapter posted *period* these days.  
  
Part 25:  
  
"Nat?" De Brabant rubbed the back of his head as he tried to rouse himself to wakefulness, "How's the party going?"  
  
Her frantic voice got his heart to start its slow beat faster than if he'd had a stake suddenly shoved up his nose.  
  
Nicholas listened anxiously as Nat related her predicament: stalled on a deserted residential street with an unconscious Wizardmon and a demented bat mutation from hell just outside heckling her and brandishing nasty- looking hypodermics that just appeared in his claws! He looked at the clock and grimaced when its digital numbers informed him that sunset was still over a half hour away. If he ventured out now he'd suffer horrendous burns if he wasn't vaporized altogether. He could wrap himself in protective clothes and keep to the shadows, but without being able to fly it would take too much time to get over to where his friends were. With a growl of frustration he struck the table with his fist and nearly broke it in two before he could contain his rage once again.  
  
"Did you call the police?"  
  
Natalie almost laughed. "I thought I just did."  
  
"Nat.."  
  
"And tell them what, Nick?" Dr. Lambert cut him off. "That I've broken down on the road and there's a demented and possibly murderous Viral digital monster---that looks like a bat mated with a bowling ball--- demanding that I hand over his Datan kin so he can take him back to their former master: a Dracula-type who wants to take over a whole different dimension? I'd have better luck trying to get anyone to believe my boyfriend is a vampire who just happens to be a homicide detective!"  
  
There was that migraine again.  
  
"Okay, you're right---it's best nobody else sees Demidevimon anyway, I can't even of a plausible excuse to explain his existence. Just don't get hysterical on me, Nat, calm down."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Dr. Lambert tried to do just that. "Easy for you to say. I just wish you were here to give such sage advice in person." She shuddered at the sight of the little demon hopping around her car, presumably looking for a way in. Could he pry into her vehicle with those huge claws? "I don't mind telling you that that thing's cackle is starting to get on my nerves."  
  
"I can imagine."  
  
"Possibly, but I need more than your empathy right now, Nick!"  
  
De Brabant ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think. "Nat, what about your little black bag? Maybe something in there will revive Wizardmon. He'd know how to handle Demidevimon better than either of us."  
  
"I thought of that, but what if the drug isn't compatible with his physiology and I make him worse?" Her brow wrinkled with worry. "My line of work may now consist of taking apart the guts of cadavers who couldn't give a darn as well as pulling bullets from you, but at one time I took an oath: Do no harm--- Oh shit!"  
  
"What?!" De Brabant's grip on his phone caused a hairline fracture to develop in the plastic.  
  
"Nick, it's trying to break through the window!"  
  
Nicholas felt his fangs drop as his vision went amber. "Roll it down."  
  
The voice on the other side of the connection sounded strained. "Say what?!"  
  
"Open the window a crack---and then close it again when he tries to get through!"  
  
"And if that thing is faster than my electric motor and twitchy index finger?  
  
"Then I'm afraid your only other option is your pharmaceutical expertise."  
  
"Well, I'm glad someone has confidence in the old 'pick and pray' method of medicine," Natalie muttered, "because I don't!" She gave a little scream as the monster outside started to work on 'peeling' back the metal from the roof of her car.  
  
"Nick?! I need some more options asap!"  
  
"Okay." Brabant began to pace as he sought inspiration. "Digital."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"Wizardmon's body is based on digital code. How do you start a computer?"  
  
Natalie grinned, she was already taking the protective cover off of her travel coffee warmer that her coworkers had given her last Christmas and working loose a wire. "Electricity! One digital java jolt, coming up!"  
  
Nick waited impatiently while muffled sounds came from the phone. "Nat?" What the hell was happening over there?!  
  
"Would you hold that thought? I'm going to try to utterly void the manufacture's warranty on this little gizmo!"  
  
"What gizmo?"  
  
Dr. Lambert didn't answer. Instead, she said a quick prayer and touched the exposed wire to the digimon mage's face while switching it on.  
  
"Aaaaah!" Wizardmon screamed as his eyes popped open and his whole body glowed with blue fire. The energy leapt upwards and knocked into Demidevimon just as he was about to pry himself into the car. The Virus digimon was sent flying head over claws to smack into a roadside tree.  
  
"Wizardmon?! Are you all right?" Natalie asked in concern, yet afraid to touch him in case he electrocuted her as well without meaning to.  
  
The green eyes shut and blinked a few times. Rolling over, he sat up, his expression hardening when he saw Demidevimon's sprawled body starting to get up.  
  
"Magical Game!"  
  
A second blast of blue electricity shot from the sorcerer's staff and slammed into the bat, knocking him even further away.  
  
"Other than I've a splitting headache and that blast should have deleted him instead of just pushing him away? I'm fine!" Wizardmon said ruefully. "But we really need to get out of here. For all we know, he has other henchmen than those two boys and my defensive power level is going to take awhile to regenerate." He looked around. "How did you revive me, anyway?" When he saw the java warmer raised an eyebrow in amusement, quickly deciphering what she had done. "An example of modern medicine, doctor?"  
  
Dr. Lambert made a face. "You'd rather have been adopted by Fang Ball back there?"  
  
"Point taken," the mage grunted. "Let's move before my 'old co-worker' does."  
  
"Are you going to bring him with us?"  
  
"In what? I'm afraid I'm too weak as yet to hold him. so," he shrugged, "we put as much distance between ourselves and him as we possibly can." The mage opened the door of the Taurus and they ran down the street.  
  
Natalie was soon puffing. "I *knew* I should have stuck with Grace and that aerobics class!" She moaned as they came to a stop before an intersection. "Hold on a minute." Bringing out her cell phone, she hit the pre-dial code for Brabant's loft. "Nick?"  
  
"Nat!" Nicholas practically yelled into the phone. "What happened? Where are you? Did it work?"  
  
Dr. Lambert looked down into the crystalline jade eyes of her companion who was waiting patiently beside her. "Oh yeah. Wizardmon zapped him, but he's too drained to fight or fly. I'm thinking of taking the first bus, taxi, subway line, or even ox cart I come across because these legs weren't meant for cross-country marathons!" The coroner bent down to massage a muscle cramp in her leg.  
  
"Just hold on, Nat--- another fifteen minutes and I'll be able to fly over there."  
  
"Right. Do me a favor and don't stop to pick up any hitchhikers, okay?" She could almost see his worried smile as he answered: "One personal de Brabant taxi coming for only you, m'lady."  
  
Natalie clicked off her cell phone and pocketed it. "Let's go wait for him over by that building." Wizardmon nodded and they made their way over to a closed convenience store.  
  
------------------------------------------- 


	25. The Only Good Digimon Is A Deleted One!

Yes, she's slow. She is aware of this. *throws hands up into air at unfairness of Life.* Bite me! (Ack! Don't even think about it, Lacroix!) Thanks to those of you who continue to show an interest in this story despite it all.  
  
And if anyone knows how to get the pause marks (three periods in a row) to work in an upload of a Word Doc so that Fanfiction.net doesn't keep turning them into plain periods (sighs) Let me know. It's driving me nuts!  
  
Part 26: The Only Good Digimon Is a Deleted Digimon!  
  
Merlin kept his gaze askance as the Elder considered what he'd been told. He'd related everything that had happened from the commission from De Brabant to create an identity for an odd entertainer, to the appearance of a 'Gennai' on his offline laptop. Part of him was afraid that Lacroix would stake him for creating some outlandish story involving his favored offspring.  
  
"You're sure it asked for that animated scarecrow?"  
  
"Affirmative, General, whoever this 'Gennai' is he was quite insistent that he speak with one 'Wizardmon'. I did the usual inquires and when those failed I moved to less. . . common. . . channels of inquiry," Merlin smiled a bit, thinking of his vast array of contacts that he'd carefully groomed over the centuries. "Alas it was for naught: the mystery is still that, which is why I came to you."  
  
"Hoping that I could shed some light on the matter," Lacroix poured them both some of his private stock of 'wine'.  
  
The computer whiz inclined his head as he accepted the offering. "Just so, General; No one knows more about Nicholas's affairs than his sire."  
  
Chuckling mirthlessly, Lacroix sipped his wine, seemingly intent on the cut of the goblet that held the scarlet liquid within. "I'm loathing admitting it, Merlin, but I'm afraid I must disappoint you. My one encounter with this flamboyant pest my son has hooked up with resulted in very little information. Like yours, my inquiries have left me empty fingers." He downed the wine in one gulp, musing on the memory. "However, according to the creature itself, it is a 'digital monster'.  
  
"A digital. . . monster, sir?"  
  
Lacroix smiled at Merlin's obvious interest beneath the veneer of disbelief. Merlin lived and breathed all things electronically fashioned--- especially if it had one of those silicon chips embedded in it. "Those were its words. If you believe it, it came from another dimension entirely, one made up of-"  
  
"Computer data!" Merlin finished for him in rising excitement. "Of course! Given the advancement in computer technologies these past decades it makes an odd sort of sense that the energy created by it might manifest themselves into variant kinds of life forms! Much the way if you mix the correct biological ingredients along with certain atmospheric conditions you can 'create' life in a glass receptacle. "  
  
Containing his own annoyance at being cut off by the younger vampire, Lacroix snorted. "You believe that poppycock?"  
  
"Well, it may not be a probable theory, but it is scientifically possible, sir. Look how humans have already developed computers that can 'think' for themselves: Make independent decisions based on input received through their own data sensors. Fundamentally, there is not much difference between a man and a machine save that man has a soul. So if a dimension created from captured data--- loose data particles--- somehow also gained 'souls'... "Merlin's eyes shown with wonder "it would be a digital Genesis!"  
  
The Elder banged one hand down on the surface of his desk, the sound making Merlin start. The computer wiz turned his eyes down in apology.  
  
"At the moment I am more interested in finding a way to reduce it to a pile of binary dust to be placed in the Recycle Bin," Lacroix growled, "not participating in some evolutionary discussion. "The creature is dangerous. It would be best for the Community if this particular digital creation were terminated."  
  
The Elder smiled wolfishly at the other vampire. "As far as I'm concerned, the only good digimon is a deleted one."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nicholas flew down to where they had agreed to meet with Natalie and Wizardmon. The street looked empty as did the closed store that they were huddled by.  
  
"Nick--- thank God!" Dr. Lambert flung herself into the vampire who hugged her back.  
  
"Sorry I was late," he held her shaking body to his, trying to calm her down. He had never seen the usually unflappable coroner look so stressed. The knight in him rose to the surface as he silently vowed to protect her come what may.  
  
"Nicholas?" Wizardmon had also come to greet him, waiting patiently for the vampire to notice him. The small mage's eyes kept roving around their immediate area as if he expected to be attacked at any moment. "I really think we should go. I 'm too underpowered right now to effectively fight DemiDevimon nor do we know what effect one of his darts might have if he managed to hit you with one."  
  
"Actually, I was rather hoping he would show up," De Brabant let a little of his Beast rise to the surface. "For someone I haven't even met yet, he's rapidly risen to my 'Top 5 Least Favorite Person' list."  
  
Wizardmon snickered a little, letting his smirk show in his eyes. "Yes, he does have that effect on those who've come to discern his true nature."  
  
"But if that thing found out about Schanke. . . " Natalie bit her lip a little.  
  
"He might know about the loft," Nicholas finished for her, "and your apartment as well." He bent and took her legs over his arms so as to carry the coroner. "Wizardmon, hop onto my back and hold on. I'm going to take us somewhere that should be safe." Or so Nicholas hoped. His first thought had been to take them to Janet for safe keeping, but he didn't think that either De Charme or Natalie would appreciate that arrangement even if he was willing to trust his sister with Wizardmon. No. he'd have to take them someplace he didn't ordinarily go which would also have the equipment he needed to communicate with Merlin.  
  
Wizardmon nodded, already having read his friend's thoughts. Still unfamiliar with much of this world, he declined to comment one way or the other as he did not yet have enough information to go by.  
  
After all, the digimon had never heard of a University.  
  
End of chapter 26. 


	26. You've Got Mail!

Chapter 27:  
  
Throbbing... That's what it was: a dull throbbing in his head caused by one wicked blast of electricity. Wizardmon's blast hurt like hell, leaving him a frightful body ache while his quarry was getting away.  
  
How annoying!  
  
Now he'd have to restart the whole tedious business of tracking down the magic-bearing nuisance again. It really was almost too much- even for the chance to get back into Myotismon's good graces.  
  
Damnation, but his head felt like it was splitting! And that was saying something considering that the vast majority of his Rookie body was mostly comprised of his head. Carefully rolling into an upright position, Demidevimon opened his eyes and staggered to his feet only to see someone's set of shoes sitting there before him, blocking most of his view.  
  
Big shoes filled by big feet which were supporting one heck of a big human. A human who was smiling with...  
  
Fangs?!  
  
Before Demidevimon could so much as open his mouth, he was grabbed and held upside down.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey- careful with the digimon!" the virus screamed as one of his wings was stretched out almost to the breaking point. "Sheesh! Does it look like I'm made of elastic to you? I'm not-thank you very much!"  
  
The Enforcer vampire smiled unpleasantly. "Digimon. You will come with me."  
  
Demidevimon gulped. "Okay. fine, whatever." He feigned indifference as his right foot reached to summon one of his dart attacks. "Take this, mammothman!" As soon as it was fully materialized, however, his captor had it in his free hand, large fingers crushing the vial into a thousand splinters of glass. The rookie stared in disbelief as the wounded 'human' calmly plucked out the glass shards with his mouth, sucking in his blood like it was merely ice cream drippings. The wounds healed even as they were licked clean.  
  
Humans could be vampires?!  
  
"Hehehe.. um.. I hope you didn't take that mammothman remark personally. It was a meant compliment I swea---hey!"  
  
Demidevimon found his vision obscured as he was roughfully thrust into a cloth sack.  
  
-----------------------o---------------------------  
  
Nicholas was just approaching Toronto University from the east when his hackles rose. Yellow eyes glowing softly, he quickly dove to the ground-- landing underneath a maple tree-- and motioned for the others to remain quiet. Natalie hugged the trunk while Wizardmon readied himself to give any sort of protection he could muster up. Before long they all heard a rustling sound followed by a dark shape alighting not far from where they were.  
  
"De Brabant?" a male's cautious voice called out.  
  
"Merlin," Nicholas blinked and moved out a bit so that he could be seen. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Looking for you," the dark-haired vampire stepped out into the moonlight as well, a thin smile on his face by way of greeting. In his right hand he carried a laptop briefcase. "We did have an appointment, remember? You ordered some special documents from me."  
  
"Yes... but," Nick frowned. Was there something wrong with Merlin's eyes? He seemed overly anxious about something and simply delivering Wizardmon's fake identification documents just didn't explain his friend's nervousness.  
  
"I've been keeping watch via the CN tower for what seems like hours. Do you have any idea of what sort of trouble is brewing in the city?" Merlin held up his hand and extended three fingers. "Three! Three of them are wandering the city-most specifically the Raven, your precinct, and the morgue--- and a certain warehouse on Gateway Lane."  
  
Nick felt his fangs descend as a chill went through him. Merlin could only be talking about the Enforcers that Lacroix had warned him would take an interest in his digimon. But how had they found out about Wizardmon to begin with?  
  
Of course- the attempted robbery followed by the show at the precinct. Add to that--- if the Enforcer's spies were on the ball and when weren't they? --- the call Myra or Schanke probably sent out after Demidevimon disrupted Jenny's party. His name would be bound to all of those so, yes, they were undoubtedly looking for him. More than likely the Enforcers had already been in contact with Janette and Lacroix. God knew he'd get no help from Lacroix-his sire would be happy to hand Wizardmon over to them. The digimon's childlike qualities would earn some sympathy from Janette, but that would undoubtedly be negated by her well-founded fear of the authorities. Nicholas rubbed his face with both hands. What to do? He sensed Natalie come up from behind him to study the other vampire a bit; likely committing his face to memory. While her main concern was for him, she'd really not had the chance to meet with very many of the vampire community that fascinated her so. It was a fascination he tried not to foster for her own safety.  
  
"Nick?" Natalie asked, obviously ready to ask a slew of questions. But Merlin was not done. He cut her off, eyes on DeBrabant.  
  
"I've got more news, but I don't know if it's good or bad. It's a message for your-"  
  
"Hold on. "An increasingly frustrated Dr. Lambert held up her hands. "I don't like being kept in the dark-figuratively speaking. Someone mind filling in the blanks for me?"  
  
She frowned as De Brabant shook his head. "The more you know, the more at risk you'll be, Nat."  
  
"I think I'm pretty much knee deep in it already, Nick," Lambert retorted with some acidity. "So spill."  
  
Natalie was right, Nick thought wearily. The Enforcers were bound to find out about her now, so keeping her ignorant of them would do her no good. "Enforcers are exceptionally powerful vampires whose job it is to keep the reality of our kind from becoming known to mortals," he explained with a sigh. "They aren't known for allowing much leeway and even Elders fear their power." He noted that Merlin flinched a bit at the mention of 'Elders'. Stepping a foot closer to Merlin, he let a deep growl issue from his throat. "You went to Lacroix!"  
  
Retreating a step in the face of the older vampire's ire, Merlin ran his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. "I wanted to find out who Gennai was since he claimed to know your immigrant friend."  
  
"Gennai contacted you?"  
  
The computer expert watched with interest as a short 'child' came into his view- the selfsame being who he had created false identification for. A confused expression was filling the large green eyes as they looked between the Belgian ex-warrior and himself. So this was an artificial life form? How fascinating! "Hello," he paused and smiled while using the pseudonym to address the alien, ". Sven."  
  
Wizardmon looked both hopeful and skeptical as he boldly stared back at Merlin. "What did he say?" the mage asked.  
  
Natalie felt like demanding a program guide again. "Who?"  
  
"Gennai," Wizardmon frowned at her interruption even as he explained, "is the Caretaker of my world. That he would be looking for me is extraordinary in itself for he usually only concerns himself with dire threats to the Digital World. I can't imagine why he would wish to speak to me, but it must be terribly important!"  
  
Merlin nodded. "I think it is. The communication was filled with static, but he mentioned the need for haste, that the Digital World and Real ones were in danger, you were needed to deliver a message, and, a 'gatomon' needs something. and, oh yes, he wants you to contact him right away using the same line." He noticed that the digimon had gone a bit pale. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Gatomon needs.?" Wizardmon leaped forward far faster than Merlin had expected the digital monster could and plucked the laptop out of the vampire's hands, growling as he struggled to open it.  
  
"Hey-that's delicate equipment!" Merlin protested.  
  
"Then open it," Wizardmon snarled, taking the three aback with the ferocity in his voice, "before I do so by blasting it open!" He felt Nicholas's hands take hold of his arms and gently apply pressure until the mage was forced to relinquish the computer back to its owner. "No--" Wizardmon started to say, but the protest turned into a sob. De Brabant hugged him from behind as Wizardmon panted for breath. "If something has happened to Gatomon--- !"  
  
"I'm sure she's okay," the former knight said in as soothing a voice as he possessed. "Getting bent out of shape won't do anything but make you sick. Besides, if she needs something then she must still be alive, right?"  
  
tbc 


	27. School Yard Bullies

"But for how much longer?" Wizardmon asked them, the pain of not knowing Gatomon's fate stark in the verdant eyes. He fixed them on Merlin. "I am sorry for my outburst. Please forgive me?"  
  
"Of course," Merlin undid the latch on his laptop and powered it on, situating on the ground yoga style so that the digimon could watch as the system readied itself for use. "I only hope that we can contact your 'Gennai'; he said to use the same line, but I wasn't actually connected to the internet at the time, so what exactly he meant by that I'm not sure." Wizardmon nodded, eyes intent on the changing screen as Merlin tried different things on it. He tried to curtail his impatience at the vampire's seeming slowness to get set up, but was feeling very anxious.  
  
"Please hurry."  
  
"Perhaps if you redo what you did before Gennai contacted you?" Natalie advised Merlin.  
  
Merlin grimaced, disliking so much of an audience. The digital creature he was willing to make allowances for because, frankly, the vampire felt rather intrigued by him. Humans, though.... Those were something he cared to deal with as little as possible—preferably via the blood in his goblets.  
  
"Well, I had rather thought of that before. "I'm not exactly a 'newbie' to hacking, Miss Lambert." The tech expert glowered at his laptop, yet managed to convey the impression that it was to her his displeasure was meant for--- he was merely too busy with his computer to bother giving her any more than a micron of his attention. Natalie took the hint and backed up a step, nearly bumping into De Brabant. Nicholas had stood up to place a reassuring arm around her both as a comfort and as a warning to his nocturnal peer that any attack against her would be considered an attack against him.  
  
"Nick, if these Enforcer guys are looking for us," Natalie broke into the sudden quiet, "then shouldn't we find someplace a little less exposed than the great outdoors?"  
  
Merlin stopped typing to gaze at her in mild surprise. Maybe she did have something of a brain attached to those shoulders. DeBrabant developed a sudden interest in the foliage and nightscape above their heads.  
  
"Natalie's right. We should seek better cover."  
  
"Yes..." Merlin agreed. He also stood up, closing the laptop as he did. "The University computer labs would be as good place to hide as any. I can even avail myself of some of their power hookups. That might help to strengthen Gennai's line to us."  
  
Rather than risking flight and being spotted, Nicholas led them on a roundabout way through Philosopher's Walk. This was a small, remnant section of what had been Taddle Creek--- a natural riparian area that had been mostly covered over during the 1800's after it had become fouled.  
  
It was while they were passing by an old building that Wizardmon suddenly stopped walking, his gaze fixed on the old building.  
  
"There is something there."  
  
Natalie turned back and saw what he was staring so intently at. "That's the Chapter House," she whispered as Merlin and Nicholas huddled around to find out what the hold up was. "The local legend is that it's haunted. There was this stone mason, Ivan Resnikoff. He was supposedly hacked to death by his rival in love, John Diavolos. You can even see a big axe gouge in the heavy iron-bound oak door at the entrance that was supposedly put there by John while doing the nasty deed.  
  
Merlin nodded. "Yes... I remember. Everyone avoided him due to his rather nasty temper. It was quite a scandal.  
  
Natalie blinked at his words. "You knew John Diavolos?"  
  
The computer expert smiled while answering, "Only by reputation."  
  
The doctor nodded, thinking that she should be used to such revelations by now. Who knew how old Merlin was and what he had lived through? Nick was a very private man—very reticent when it came to his past before they met—but occasionally he would let things slip that hinted at his great longevity.  
  
Wizardmon appeared to have not listened to the talk. The entire time he kept staring at the Chapter House with his intense green eyes. "There's something there," he repeated, turning to head that way. Nicholas stopped him with a hand to the shoulder.  
  
"Wait—what is it you think you're sensing?"  
  
"There's nothing there... not anything at all," Merlin snorted, "no vampires, humans... or homicide leftovers anyway."  
  
"I for one don't believe in ghosts," Natalie said firmly added. "The idea of spirit lingering beyond death—it's totally unscientific—not one scrap of solid evidence."  
  
"But then, would you expect to find solid evidence in a ghost, Dr. Lambert?"  
  
Nicholas held up a hand to shush them. "Wizardmon?" he asked again, kneeling down to the mage's level. The digimon blinked and regarded his friend with an expression of confusion.  
  
"I don't know what it is exactly. There's a disturbance of some kind in there and my instincts are telling me it's important. You can all stay here if you wish, but I must check it out."  
  
"Not without me," DeBrabant told him, lightly squeezing the hand he had placed on the mage's shoulder. "We're friends, remember? Friends stick together."  
  
Wizardmon smiled in acknowledgement of the offer. "Thank you."  
  
----------------------o  
  


* * *

  
They were within a few yards of the oaken entrance door when the vampires stiffened and looked up. Natalie barely had time to blink before a dark blur swept past her from above.  
  
"Nicholas, aren't you a little old to be in a mortal school? And yet, it seems, you still need instruction in my class on Self Preservation... you dalliances with these mortals will be your undoing."  
  
Natalie's line of sight was immediately obscured by the DeBrabant's back jacket as he took up a defensive stand between her and the newcomer.  
  
"Lacroix..." Nicholas snarled out upon seeing his sire.  
  
"Good... you remember my name. Then we can dispense with the formalities of class introductions," the vampire elder brushed off some imaginary lint from his very expensive suit before continuing. "A pity you failed my last test. I did warn you about continuing an association with that creature, but you would not listen so now others have come to take over the situation." He looked up. "I imagine they shall be arriving within the next minute or so." Looking down again, pale blue eyes fixed upon those of a darker tone, hard and menacing. "Distance yourself from the thing now, Nicholas, lest they decide to terminate two disturbances in one blow." He flicked his gaze towards Natalie Lambert. "Perhaps even all three...?" he added quietly. "Come, Nicholas— come now and I will protect you. Merlin, I trust you can look after yourself?"  
  
Before Merlin could reply, Nicholas flew up faster than the human eye could follow, tore off one of the tree limbs overhead and landed again, brandishing the sharp end towards his maker.  
  
"Out of our way, Lacroix."  
  
"Nicholas..." Lacroix's shoulders slumped a bit. "Very well, then. You've made your choice for suicide. I shan't say more."  
  
The master vampire made to turn away, but instead his arm lashed out and he grabbed the tree branch before anyone could react, flinging it out of DeBrabant's hand and using it to club his adopted on the side of the head. Nicholas tried to duck, but still received a glancing blow hard enough to send him sailing into the door of the Chapter House—which seemed to give way at the impact. He landed on the inside of the entryway in a sprawled heap.  
  
"Thunderball!"  
  
An angry Wizardmon threw the glowing energy ball at Lacroix. However, the Ancient was prepared for some counterattack and it missed its target as he flew upwards. Wizardmon growled as the zippers of his gloves opened up again to reveal blackness within cradling a growing spark of amber light. He also lifted into the air—body crackling with blue power, prepared to give pursuit. Out of the corner of his eye he noted that Natalie and Merlin had gone to check on Nicholas.  
  
"Bastard!"  
  
"There he is! There he is! See— told'ya my assistance was invaluable!"  
  
What?  
  
Wizardmon twisted in the air just in time two black-clad figures descending—one of whom was suffering the presence of an excited monster hovering near its shoulder. The mage's eyes narrowed in disgust. "Demidevimon... I see you still haven't learned to judge the company you keep," he spat out, unconsciously mirroring Lacroix's own sentiment of the all digimon. He threw the thunderball in his hand at the lead Enforcer.  
  
Grinning, the large vampire caught it in his hand, the enhanced blood sucker wincing only slightly as the electricity burned pale skin.  
  
Oh shit! 


	28. Can't We All Just Get Along?

Just to show I am still alive...  
  
"Nick?!" "Are you okay?"  
  
De Brabant opened his eyes and realized he was on the ground looking up into a pair of concerned faces. The concern changed into relief as he gave them both a wan smile to show nothing was permanently broken though his back hurt a bit. Felt like splinters digging into his back "Just a few bruises I think." He started to get up immediately winced in pain.  
  
Natalie and Merlin reached to help him up—then removed the few pieces of wood that were sticking in his skin: apparently he'd shattered the door a bit when he'd been tossed into it. The wounds closed up as soon as the offending pieces of cellulose were gone.  
  
A scream of defiance rang out just as Nicholas felt his blood stir in rage. Looking up he saw the mage was being held in a crushing grip by one of the Enforcers while the second was approaching with some sort of netting that appeared to be made of something other than rope or metal. Wizardmon pointed his staff at the second Enforcer as he shouted again something that sounded like "Magical Game". A blue lightning bolt sprang from the staff's flaming egg icon. Thinking that would buy him enough time, the digimon had already turned his head to face off with the Enforcer who had his arm and thus didn't see what De Brabant saw: the netting absorb the blast. The force of it pushed the Enforcer back a little—but he quickly came forward again.  
  
"No! Wizardmon—look out!"  
  
Hearing the warning but unable to free his arm, Wizardmon spun around giving the Enforcer the choice of either letting go or getting turned about as well. Instead of hitting him, the netting fell over the Enforcer holding him. The vampire growled in annoyance but still did not let go. Nicholas let out his own growl and launched upward. He barely dodged Lacroix who instead grabbled with Merlin. The computer wizard had decided to help out De Brabant if only in keeping Lacroix occupied for as long as he was able to. Nicholas flew on towards the Enforcers--- only to be blocked by Demidevimon who was wielding a hypodermic.  
  
"You're not going anywhere," Demidevimon snickered, "except to Slumber land!"  
  
Remembering what Wizardmon had told him about the Rookie, Nicholas used his superior speed to grab the claw with the needle, break the cylinder, and then transfer his grip to the bat's two ribbon-like mask antennae.  
  
"I think you need beauty sleep far more than I do!"  
  
"Hey—watch that—those are delicaaah--whaddya think you're—waaaaaah!" Demidevimon protested as he was twirled around like an Argentinean bolo. The virus's indignation was cut short though when he was suddenly let go to collide into the face of the Enforcer who had been wielding the net. Wizardmon shot his friend a grin as the grip on his arm slackened. Nicholas flashed him a 'thumbs up' sign and both flew backwards, wary eyes on their adversaries.  
  
Intent on the battle nobody paid attention when Merlin's laptop jerked and a blue light shone from the seam between the monitor lid and keyboard base.  
  
"Oh dear... is anyone here? Hello? Maybe I should have gone with the satellite DSL option rather than cable..."  
  
Dr. Lambert felt useless. Stuck on the ground, she could only watch and pray Nick would be okay. Finally her ears registered the muffled voice and looked around. No one else seemed to be there with her... everyone else was involved in aerial combat. Then she noticed the faint light coming from the laptop. Natalie knelt down and touched its smooth exterior wondering if she should...?  
  
Oh hell. Like being killed by Merlin for touching his property was of big concern right now. She picked the laptop up in her arms and hit the release switch. The lid eased to an open position, its miniature video camera pointed at her face. On the screen was an icon of a wizened old man who looked just as startled at seeing her as she was of the seemingly sentient document-inserted gif.  
  
"Why hello! Who is it I'm speaking to this time?"  
  
Natalie cleared her throat. "Dr. Natalie Lambert. And you must be...?"  
  
The .gif seemed to smirk at her. "Gennai, m'dear, my name is Gennai. Now I don't mean to be rude, but this is a long distance call after all and I'm running short of online minutes."  
  
"Long distance..?" Natalie cleared her throat, striving to regain her professional equilibrium. "Long distance doesn't mean anything on the internet."  
  
"Who said I was on the internet?" the Gennai icon snapped. "This is connection is interdimens... oh, skip it! Where is Wizardmon? I'm running out of time."  
  
A bit frustrated as well as flustered, Natalie simply flipped the laptop around and pointed the screen up to where the fighting was.  
  
"Quite zipping me around— are you trying to give me whiplash? Oh dear," Gennai's aggrieved voice softened after Natalie managed to hold the device still, "I take it those humans are unfriendly?"  
  
"You could say that," the doctor agreed. "They're vampires—very strong ones."  
  
"Vampires always are a pain in the neck."  
  
Tbc 


End file.
